Young Writers Society

Why wasn't it over?

Consciousness was coming back to him, and he couldn't help but fight it. He didn't want to wake up this time. He wanted to fade away into nothingness, but something kept pulling him back, prolonging his departure.

Everything in his head was too scrambled to comprehend it. People had been around him, he'd been moved, someone had found him. Desperation settled deep within his gut like a millstone, and no matter how hard he tried, he could feel himself drifting back to the world. He could feel his body getting better.

Anyone else would've appreciated the miracle, but all he wanted to do was weep. He didn't want to fight any longer, and no one ever seemed to give him the choice to give up, especially when he wanted to. Were he able, he would've willingly clawed his hands at the dirt, trying to dig his own grave in the earth beneath him. Maybe then he could finally be forgotten. Maybe then, his infamy would finally fade and everything that followed him would reach an end with him.

And yet, instead, the world finally began to come back into focus.

Cold air bit as his skin. He could feel it pinch at his face, and his hands. A cool breeze brushed down his arm, but it felt like the rest of him had been covered. Warm and wooly, something like a blanket rested against his bare skin, wrapping around him.

Someone had clothed him - at least, partially. The last thing he could really remember was throwing his clothes onto the ground as the fever reached its peak, and if someone had stumbled upon him, of course they'd cover him up in this weather - and for decency's sake. His boots had been returned to his feet as well, and it felt like his socks were glued to his skin.

How long had it been since he'd collapsed? How long had he been... here?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, taking in the shadows of the canopy of trees above him.

It was dark, and he couldn't see much around him, but it didn't appear that he'd gone very far from where he was last. It still smelled of the same pines and firs, and the same dying leaves. He could still hear the same crickets chirping faintly in the night, singing the same familiar song, over and over.

His fever had broken, hadn't it?

He took in a slow, deliberate breath. His body was still full of pain, and it ached from not having moved for who knew how long, but the throbbing, nearly-blinding pain in his head was gone, and he only realized after a moment that he was looking out at the world with both eyes instead of one.

So, the swelling in his face had gone down. It had to have been at least a few days, then.

Tucking his arms up to his sides, James began to force himself upright. He was content to move slowly, assessing the situation as much as he could before anything escalated. And for all he knew, someone was watching him with a gun trained on him, ready to shoot if he so much as got to his feet.

He waited a moment in silence as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He couldn't see anything for what felt like a few minutes, and when he could finally make out shadows and shapes in the dark, he dared to look around.

He'd only turned his head to the side before he froze, staring at the silhouette of a person, leaned up against a tree.

They were facing him.

He couldn't make out their features, but they seemed to be around his size.

James waited for them to speak first.

For a moment, it looked like they shifted about in place. In doing this, there was a sharp, nearly inaudible inhale from them. A few seconds passed before anything else happened.

“Hey,” their voice gently broke the silence. “What’s up?”

The inhale almost sounded pained. From what he could decipher, the speaker sounded like a woman. Her tone was calm, but concerned - not carrying the underlying threats he might've expected at first. But that didn't mean they weren't there just because he didn't hear them.

Still... something about her voice felt oddly familiar.

"...Who are you?" he asked after a long silence.

He was met with a lengthy silence of her own before she shifted again.

"Tori," she said gently. "From four years ago."

James stared at her, his mind working slowly.

It took him no time to remember her, but he couldn't be sure it was her until he saw her face.

He furrowed his brows, trying to see the woman in the dark.

"Come closer," he said.

Soon he found her knelt a few feet away, her hands visible in her lap.

"I dunno if this is close enough," she mumbled. "Just let me know if I'm making you uncomfortable."

James stared at her, a pained mix of feelings stirring in his gut.

Part of him didn't want it to be her. If it really was Tori, he had no idea how to face her. It'd been years since they'd seen each other, and he'd never said goodbye. When he left, it was in the middle of the night.

He'd told Jeremy he was leaving, but he hadn't told Tori.

What did she think of him, now?

"What do you see?" she asked.

James squinted into the darkness.

Was it really her? How on earth did she find him? Had it all been by chance?

"I can't... see you," he said quietly.

Something in his gut told him this had to be her. No one else in his life knew about her. Who could be pretending? He swallowed, still unable to shake the feeling of dread in his gut.

A quiet chuckle. "I don't know why I asked that. I know you're blind at night," she sighed. "I have some matches in my bag we can use for light..." She rustled about at her side for a moment, then grew quiet.

"When you're ready for it, I'll strike it on three," she said.

For a moment, James couldn't help but feel like he'd done something wrong for her to be so careful and apprehensive. Somehow, it felt like she was going out of her way not to scare him. He didn't want to know what happened before all of this, in his feverish state. Everything he could remember was a blur, and he couldn't pick out how much of it was real, imagined, or dreamed. He hoped he hadn't done anything to hurt her or make her think he'd lash out, but that felt like too much to hope for.

He decided to assume the worst.

"Okay," he said, his voice small in the back of his throat.

After a second's hesitation, she counted to three, and he heard the strike of a match. The flame quickly fizzled to life and illuminated a tattooed hand that reached out to a wick, igniting a small candle lamp. Lifting the candle as the flame grew, the woman's face finally came into view.

It felt like the forest went silent when he met her eyes.

Her hair was shorter. Much shorter. It'd been cut choppily, but close to her skin. Short bangs hung over her forehead, partially shadowing her dark eyes that regarded him with a sadness that cut right through him. Dark circles were under her eyes, and she looked wearied, more than that of someone who'd merely stayed up all night. It was the look of someone who had spent days watching over him, and the reality of just how long he'd been out with a fever began to sink in more and more as he looked at her.

A smile pulled at the corners of her lips, but it was pained. Forced. Her lips were dark, like they'd been stained, and there were piercings above her lips, and the shine of more piercings on her ears.

It felt like he was looking at a different person, and yet, her eyes were undeniable.

Guilt began to crawl up his throat like a snake, winding around his vocal cords.

The same gaze. The same tattoos. The same raspy voice.

It was Tori, but he didn't want it to be.

He didn't want her to see him like this. He didn't want her to see him at all. He didn't want to think about having to explain everything - reliving everything. He didn't want to think at all. He didn't want to admit to her that he wasn't happy to see her, or that merely making eye contact with her made him want to crawl out of his own skin. It wasn't for any fault that she had done - in fact, she'd done nothing wrong.

In his story, she'd been the hero. He'd been the one that left.

It was the same, horrible, twisted pattern. Over and over.

He didn't want to repeat it. And yet, here he was again.

Quickly breaking eye contact, James looked down at her hand, staring at the light as it flickered over her skin.

She was trembling. Just barely, but she was trembling.

Either she was that exhausted, or she was afraid. Or it was both. And both were because of him.

He knew he couldn't let the silence that followed continue to carry between the two of them like an ocean. He had to reach across it, even if he didn't want to. He wondered how many times Tori had had this conversation, or how many different ways it'd gone wrong, when he wasn't in his right mind. How many people had he spoken to that had really been her? How many things had she heard?

Forcing his face to keep from frowning, he looked up once again.

"You look exhausted," he said.

"Well..." she huffed to herself. Her initial amusement grew somber as she shifted her gaze, scanning him head to toe. "It's hard running from people, y'know. It wears you out, can't trust no one..." she drifted off, watching her hand.

"You're still running?" he asked, his brows pinching together.

He knew he shouldn't have been surprised. He supposed he'd just hoped...

Her head perked up ever so slightly. Silence drew out, as if she'd been taken aback by the question. She looked to his face, her eyes filled with a mix of confusion and shock.

"I am," she said hesitantly. She opened her mouth to say something, but then shut it. Her gaze was hard fixed on him. Her free hand lifted from her side, but she paused.

He stared at her hand, briefly met her eyes, and then reached out to meet it with his. He held it gingerly, not sure what she'd been reaching for. But it did confirm something for him.

If he'd had any remaining doubts, they were gone now.

This was really Tori. This was real.

When he looked up from their hands to her face, she seemed stunned. Perhaps he shouldn't have touched her.

Gently pulling away, he rested his hand back at his side.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking down at the ground. "I'm... sorry to hear that."

A cold sensation formed on his forehead, her hand gently cupping it.

Ah. She meant to check for a fever.

The embarassment he felt was dulled, but it still stung as he sat there, still, waiting for her to pull away.

Her hand had begun to tremble more than before. She drew her hand away.

"Tiberius, look at me," she pleaded.

The tone of her voice cut through him, just like the look she'd first given him. He looked up even though he didn't want to.

When he met her eyes, she was tearing up.

He swallowed again, feeling his mouth pull again, and this time he let it form into a frown.

"Are you... okay?" he asked, forcing the question out.

Her wide and watery eyes searched his. Expression growing contorted with a variety of emotions, she began to lean forward toward him. Before he could react, she swept him into a hug, gently holding him close.

"I forgot to ask, sorry," she squeaked into his good shoulder. "You see me?" she cried.

James wasn't sure what he'd been expecting.

Four years ago, he'd left her without a word. In the dead of night he'd disappeared with the silent agreement between him and Jeremy that he should go. They all knew it was for the best. Tori knew it was for the best, but they knew she would object regardless, and to avoid a painful conversation, James had taken the coward's route. Ever since, he expected never to see her again, and he'd hoped she would go on to live something of a normal life without the burden of his problems pulling her in.

He didn't know what she'd been up to these past four years. From the looks of it, she'd gone out of her way to change her apperance, if at the very least in hopes to deter any recognition based on her posters. She had better prospects in that regard, being a criminal with less attention, and a far smaller bounty than his own.

They lived in a world where mages took precedence, and all Tori was wanted for was aiding them... alongside manslaughter. But the latter by now was fading from memory, and James knew the guilds were preoccupied with other matters besides tracking down an accomplice.

It pained him to know she was still running. It pained him to see her again.

He'd expected that, perhaps, she'd be angry. Maybe that would come later, after the relief. But the last thing he'd expected was a hug.

After too many seconds of sitting still, he finally brought his arms to wrap around her back, pulling her in gently.

Something inside of him stirred beneath the heavy numbness in his chest. But he couldn't access it.

From everything she'd said, it seemed she remembered him just as vividly as he remembered her. She remembered his aversion to touch. His poor eyesight. She embraced him with the passion of someone seeing an old friend, even though they'd only travelled together for, at most, two weeks. He'd thought that, maybe, after four years, she would have stopped caring, or maybe her feelings about him had changed. Plenty of new rumors about him had floated about in the past few years, and he wouldn't blame her if she felt she'd been deceived, tricked into believing he was something he wasn't.

But... she hadn't said anything about that.

She was just relieved to see him. To see him, as he could only assume, finally in his right mind. Or, at least, coherent enough to have a real conversation. One without hallucinations or half-muttered words.

He rested his head over her shoulder, letting her hug him tightly. He couldn't help but feel disconnected from the moment, like he wasn't really there.

"Yes," he finally said beside her ear. "I see you."

She grew weak in his arms, but still she clung to him.

"I didn't even realize your fever had broken. I must have been confusing the hell out of you," she muttered, chuckling through the tears she'd been dropping on him.

"I'm sure I did plenty of that to you as well," he said softly. "Don't worry about it."

“Ok.” Her voice was weak like her grip.

Eventually, she pulled away, bending forward to press her eyes into her sleeve and dry them.

When she next moved, she lifted her head to search his face again. When her gaze met his, the sadness had seeped back into her eyes. She promptly looked down into the leaves beneath them.

“Whoever it was…” she started to speak, but stopped herself. She cleared her throat, intentionally keeping quiet. Then she restarted, her volume lower. “It’s last watch and Jeremy’s tryin’ to sleep.” A puff of air left her nostrils as her head shook lightly.

Ah. Jeremy. So, they were still together. It appeared that had worked out, at least.

“Anyway, I assume whoever it was that you’re running from was the one that did you in,” she said, twirling a leaf by the stem between her fingertips as she spoke. “It was… not a desirable state to be in, to say the least. Especially sick.” She spoke candidly, and seemed to be avoiding excessive detail.

“You don’t have to worry about explaining anything, by the way.” She briefly give him a weak smile, then looked back down to the leaf she was fidgeting with. “We haven’t moved far from where we found you. Jeremy has been going out surveying and keeping watch while I took care of you.”

She drew quiet, the leaf still spinning in her fingers, and James found himself staring at it.

She was giving him an out before she even heard what happened. In different words, she was telling him she was content to help him without anything in return. She didn't even seem to be concerned if she and Jeremy were in any danger. He almost wanted to tell her she ought to be more careful than to blindly trust him. His feelings didn't matter if their collective safety was an issue. She had no assurance that they were secure, especially if they had hardly moved him from where he'd been before.

And yet, instead of berating her - he found himself too much a coward to challenge her.

She said he didn't have to say anything, and somehow it was a relief.

It meant that maybe - just maybe - if she didn't know much, it'd be easier to detach himself later.

He would thank her for her help. He would do everything he could to not be a burden. He would leave again, without a trace, and hopefully, this time, she'd finally give up on him. Maybe if he left a second time, she wouldn't so stubbornly hold on. Maybe she could let go and live a life of her own, not having to worry about him anymore.

Again, his response was delayed as he sat there, his chest exposed. The blanket that had been laid over him had slid down into his lap, and now he felt the night's chill crawling on his skin. Being upright made him realize how lightheaded he was, and he had a feeling that if he were to get to his feet to quickly, that he'd just as promptly fall over.

"How long has it been?" he decided to ask. It'd be best to get this out of the way, now.

"Since you found me?" he added.

"It's been about a week," she said softly, unmoving.

He hummed.

"That's... a long time," James said.

He couldn't help but look down at his side. Formerly, it'd been a wound so deep he didn't think he would recover. At present, though, it was as if it'd healed miraculously fast. Even a week was not enough for this.

Brows pinching together, he tilted his head to the side, remembering the pain that used to be there. Lifting his hand, he touched the back of his head, feeling over a thick scab that he'd sworn was a large gash. It would've needed staples, or something of the sort. No one had that kind of resource out here.

So how did it...?

Squinting into the darkness, James found himself in a fog of confusion.

"Did something happen?" he asked, before realizing that the question was far too vague.

"I--I mean," he tried again, before Tori could reply. "It's just... my head..."

His hand fell back into his lap as he struggled to formulate a full coherent sentence.

"Why am I not dead?"

Hm. Perhaps that was too straight-forward. Well. Too late now.

“Well…” Tori drifted off. “It’s— Actually, I can just show you.” Her hand came into view in front of him, her fingers twiddling about to get his attention. “Can I set my hand here?” Her hand hovered over his stomach, waiting.

James hesitated.

"I... sure," he said, not sure what to expect.

Her cold hand rested gently over a large bruise on his stomach that still had yet to dissipate. For a short time, nothing happened.

Then there was a gentle glow that began to permeate her hand. It was as if she was hiding a light beneath her palm, but instead the light seemed to be emanating from within it. The chill of her hand began to fade, easing into another sensation. It was warm and gentle, akin to the midday sun of spring, softening and melting away the biting chill in the air around them.

James knew what it was the moment he felt it.

She was a healing mage. All this time, she was a mage, and had magic of her own.

When a muscle in her hand twitched, her palm slowly lifted from his belly, uncovering the bruise. It hadn't changed significantly in size, but even in the candlelight, the colors had shifted from greens and yellows to more of a brown.

It suddenly began to dawn on him just how much energy Tori must've spent on bringing him back from the brink of death.

It had been days. A week. Sleepless nights weren't the only thing gnawing away at her; the exhaustion that hung to heavily from her eyes was because she'd been giving all of her energy to him. That was the only reason he was awake, the only reason he was alive, the only reason he was functional and speaking to her right now.

Like thorns, the truth stung as he realized Tori had given so much just to save him; more than he could ever return. And even more painful: she'd hurt herself in the process.

He knew what an over-extended healer looked like.

The guilt that clung to him grew heavier, twisting around his throat even tighter. If Tori hadn't found him, she wouldn't have been pushed to spend so much of herself like this. Gods, he wished she hadn't found him. He desperately wished she never found him.

So many questions swirled in his mind as he looked up to meet her eyes, but none of them came to his mouth. Silence grew between them like a mountain, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was waiting for his reaction before she said another word. It occured to him that he'd been staring, but still, his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

Ripping it away like bark and tree sap, he forced himself to swallow.

"You're a healer," he finally managed to say, his voice no louder than a whisper.

She hummed, giving him a slow nod as she did. "I'm sure you have questions." She passed a glance to somewhere behind him momentarily, then her tired gaze returned. "Some may need to wait until morning, but I can explain."

James's brows pinched together.

"Why don't we talk more after you've rested?" he said quietly. "It can wait."

"I suppose so," she whispered.

Her hand moved to her bag at her side and pulled out a canteen. "Well, if you need water at any point... here's mine." She set it down between them. "There's a small creek nearby," she said with a pointed glance his way. "So if you're thirsty, drink."

He nodded, and with a slow motion, picked up the canteen, taking a drink without announcement or protest.

Tori simply sat as he drank, and the water was cool against his throat. It made the cold in the air pinch deeper, but it also soothed his throat - which he hadn't even realized was so dry. He tried to drink slowly so as not to drown himself, but his body ached for hydration.

Disciplining himself, he pulled the canteen away, deciding to wait a few minutes for the water to settle before drinking more. Quietly, he screwed the lid shut and briefly met Tori's eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Not really wanting to hear any prodding remarks, he quickly added: "How long before Jeremy's up and you get to rest?"

"We agreed on dawn," she said. “It shouldn’t be too far off from now. I could see the moon a bit before you woke up, but now it’s probably close to setting.”

James hummed slightly, looking down at the space between them.

"And... Elliot," he said slowly. "Is he alright?"

“We’ve both been taking care of him. He shouldn’t be too far off right now, since Jeremy’s asleep….” She looked around slowly, searching. “He still doesn’t like Jeremy much, but normally he’ll come over at some point while he’s away or asleep…”

James stared off into the forest.

"I guess we'll find out in the morning," he said loosely.

He had a feeling he should've shown more concern based on Tori's initial reaction. Her eyebrows pinched together and she cocked her brow, like she hadn't expected him to be so relaxed about Elliot possibly being missing.

"I only mean that... it's not like I can get up and find him at the moment," he said by way of explanation, giving her a partial truth to disguise a more painful one.

He really didn't know if he wanted to dote on Elliot at the moment, especially after how he'd treated the poor horse the last week or two before he'd finally succumbed to the fever. Normally, he took care of Elliot before even himself. But James hadn't been able to manage that. He'd hardly been able to manage travel.

Normally, he never pushed Elliot past his limits, but this time... he'd pushed him hard.

Elliot had never been nervous around him before, but for the first time since Elliot was a foal, he'd been wary of James.

"And I don't want to wake Jeremy by calling him. As long as Elliot's around," he continued. "I'm not worried."

“Ah, you’re right,” Tori said with a nod. “I doubt he went far, anyway.”

James let a small silence pass, but in the few seconds, he could feel the tension between them.

He could feel all of Tori's worrry. All of the questions. The weight of all of the weariness she'd carried the past week on his behalf, and the feeling that he at least owed her the truth, even if she couldn't bring herself to say it.

It was only a few seconds, but it ate away at him.

"I think I'm going to lie back down," he said quietly. "It still hurts to move."

It wasn't far from the truth, but it was an excuse. One he knew he was using, and glad for as an escape.

Before Tori could respond, he already put his words to action, and he slowly began to lower himself until he once again was flat on the ground, back against the blanket. He pulled the blanket back over himself to hide from the chill, and from Tori's prying eyes.

He could see her mouth partially agape in the flickering lamp-light, like she'd been on the cusp of saying something, but he'd acted before she could. Even though she looked mildly annoyed, he decided to speak again.

"I'm still really drained," he said. And it wasn't hard to sell it, because he was. "Do you mind if I go back to sleep?"

The question was really only a courtesy. He felt bad that Tori was going to have to push through the last hour of exhaustion until Jeremy woke up, but he didn't think he could endure another hour of conversation.

“There’s no need to explain,” she said, straightening her back from the slouch she had. She had a tired smile. “You need to rest. I don’t expect you to stay up with me, so sleep whenever you need to, alright?”

She paused for a moment, as if she’d remembered something, then continued. “If I’m asleep when you next wake up, I warned Jeremy a couple days back or so to not bother you too much because we didn’t want you to feel threatened at all or attempt to run.“ She stopped herself, thinking on what she said for a second. “Not that we won’t let you leave, but… hallucinations and running don’t seem like the greatest of combinations,” she released a huff of amusement, perhaps trying to lighten the mood.

It didn't really work, but he appreciated that she tried.

“I’ll let him know that your fever is lifted when we switch out later,” she said. She sounded like she was wearing herself out just by speaking. “I just thought I’d let you know. Don’t hesitate to call on him if you need help with anything.”

She quietly shifted back to her spot at the tree, candle in hand, pulling her blanket into her lap with her free hand.

“I’ll let you sleep now. Goodnight.”

James briefly met her eyes, but closed them and looked away, unable to hold eye contact.

He'd only been awake a few minutes and he could already see how even when Tori wasn't healing him, he was leeching her energy. He hated that it was so. He hated that she felt like she had to appease him, and walk on eggshells around him. He hated that all he had to offer was this.

"Goodnight," he said faintly, turning his head away. And he could hear the puff of breath as Tori blew the candle out, and the light behind his eyelids faded to darkness.

Tori shuffled away eventually, finally leaving James to himself, with all of the things they both left unsaid.

When he finally began to drift off to sleep, he pushed those thoughts deep down.

He wished he didn't have to wake up from this.

He wished he didn't have to face her again.

James didn't know how long he slept, but when he opened his eyes, the sun was peering through an overcast sky.

He was right where he remembered. Lying on the forest floor, entombed in a blanket, left to himself. No one was nearby, and he couldn't blame them for keeping their distance now that they knew he was no longer at death's door. He knew what kind of person he'd become, and it wasn't the kind that anyone wanted to be around if they didn't have to. It didn't matter how polite or considerate he was - the weight he carried was like a disease, and it infected everyone around him.

It was best they didn't draw too close. It was best that nobody did.

When he sat up, the air around him was chilly, and the sun offered no extra warmth, even in the spots of light that filtered between the trees. He didn't know what happened to his shirt or his jacket, but he had a feeling they'd been abandoned while his body was burning up.

As James sat up, he pulled the blanket around his shoulders, turning it into a shawl. The canteen Tori'd given him had been left by his side, and when he picked it up, he could feel that it'd been re-filled. He took his time with another long drink and eventually set it to the side, knowing it wasn't his to take.

The clearing wasn't empty. When he looked around, he saw Tori curled up in a corner, with her back turned away. She was breathing steadily, and hopefully fast asleep. Still, when he got to his feet, he did so carefully.

Tori was a few yards away, and James watched her carefully to make sure he didn't wake her. When she didn't stir, he turned his gaze to Jeremy, who he caught in the corner of his eye, sitting up against a tree at the edge of the clearing just in front of him. There was a short four feet of space between them, and when James met Jeremy's eyes, the silence between the two of them was deafening.

The last time he saw Jeremy, it was on the night that he left.

Jeremy had quietly taken James's place on watch, and James snuck away into the darkness of night. They'd said nothing then, and they said nothing now.

They were still strangers, and James didn't know what kind of man Jeremy had become in the years that passed. The only thing he really knew about him was who he was to Tori - apparently, still close enough to be traveling with her, and presumably a partner of some sort, unless they'd resolved to simply be good friends. James didn't really care to discover which it was, and he certainly wasn't going to ask because it really didn't matter.

Moving to the side, James broke eye contact with Jeremy and wandered to the edge of the clearing. He could see a horse through the trees, and though he didn't recognize it as Elliot, he did recognize it vaguely when he stepped through the brush.

Staring, James watched Brenna grazing on the grass below.

Tori kept the horse.

She... she's kept it for four years. She kept the horse of the man who'd attacked her. The man he'd killed.

Slowly looking over his shoulder, James found Tori again through the trees, his brows furrowed deeply as he stared at her sleeping frame.

Something stirred in his gut, leaving him unnerved. Brenna was just a horse, but her existence was attached to memories he'd long since buried, and looking at her felt like staring into an open grave, at an old corpse. He'd never told Tori all those years ago, but Brenna had been the horse he'd been tied up to - the one he'd been dragged behind. He'd been pulled through her hoofsteps and her refuse for hours. And what he remembered most was Reed spoiling her with a sickening, tender affection soon after Reed tortured him.

James felt his face twitch as an involuntary compulsion and he turned, walking stiffly away as the horse hardly even reacted to his existence. He didn't really care where his feet carried him, so far as it was away, and he paced off several yards away before he saw another horse through the trees. This one was already looking at him.

Elliot's head was up, his ears turned towards James; alert, and slightly on edge.

James's fingers curled at his sides, nervously arching inward.

So, he was right. Elliot hadn't gone far.

Swallowing, James took in a deep breath and began to approach slowly, trying to release the tension in his hands. When he arrived at Elliot's side, he hesitated before finally brushing the side of Elliot's neck.

Elliot finally lowered his head, his ears relaxing as James stroked his mane, running his fingers through it. It looked like Tori had taken care of him in James's absence. He'd been brushed, fed, and looked better off than he last saw him. All of his belonging were still in the saddle, tied up and packed in his bags. He wondered if Tori and Jeremy had looked through his things, or if they'd left them alone. But it was naive to think they hadn't.

They would've been looking for answers. Some kind of explanation for how he'd ended up the way he had.

He couldn't blame them.

Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at Jeremy again. He hadn't moved from where he was sitting. James quickly looked away.

Gently, he moved to Elliot's side and reached into the saddlebag. The first thing he found were clothes, neatly folded on top of the rest of his belongings. If he had to guess, they were the ones he'd last been wearing, and from the looks of it, someone had washed them since.

Knowing he'd have to inevitably strip himself of his shirt later to change his bandages, James pulled out the shirt anyway, throwing the blanket over Elliot's saddle while he quickly slipped into it. James was careful not to move too briskly, and though he ached deeply, it didn't feel like anything got too agitated. He took out his jacket and put it on in turn, then grabbed the blanket again.

He was still cold, so he pulled the blanket back over his shoulders.

Returning to Elliot's head, he gently brushed the side of Elliot's face with the tips of his fingers. Elliot seemed ambivalent about the action, but eventually chose to slightly lean into his touch.

James wasn't sure whether or not he felt relief, but he continued to petting and scratching for a minute or so before he pulled away with a final pat.

"Glad to see you're okay," he muttered faintly, not sure if he could be overheard. It was best not to test it by saying anything too telling.

When he stepped away, he wandered back in Tori and Jeremy's direction.

Fortunately, unlike Tori, Jeremy didn't seem interested in having conversation. If he was, he didn't show it, and James had a feeling that he wasn't going to try to say anything. That meant he could return to sitting and not worry about having to say anything - so that was just what he did.

Taking a seat back by the canteen, he took small sips in slow, gradual intervals.

He thought about the cold earth beneath him. The dead grass. The crack of every dried leaf. He focused on the pinch of cold at his cheeks and the dry, calloused skin at his fingertips - how it scraped against every surface. He focused on the smell of petrichor, and the way a ray of sunshine was inching towards him.

It became a comforting, repetitive cycle. He'd take a drink. Close his eyes. Look at the ground. Do it again. It didn't stop until he realized the canteen was empty, and when it was, he finally set it to the side.

And it was then that he realized that Tori was awake, and she and Jeremy were standing off to the side, near Brenna.

When he looked up, he saw that they were both looking his way, and it appeared that they'd been talking to each other, but James had noticed none of it.

When he made eye contact with Tori, he looked away first, pretending that the canteen wasn't empty and was still interesting. He held it in his hands, unsure of what he'd missed, or if he'd missed anything at all. Judging from the light leaking through the overcast sky, some hours had passed, and he knew without anyone saying a word that he'd been mostly still for that time.

They were concerned, and he didn't know how to alleviate their worries.

He had to get better at... at hiding it. Pinching his eyes shut for a moment, he nodded to himself.

For as long as he was with them, he at least had to try to be functional.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. Forcing himself to turn around, he approached Jeremy and Tori, holding out the canteen to Tori once he'd crossed the small, five-foot distance.

"Thanks for the water," he said. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Of course. That's why I left it for you," she gave a tight-lipped smile that began fading after she took the canteen. "Yeah, at least I think I slept decently. Didn't I?" Tori looked to Jeremy, who simply shrugged at her question.

She returned her gaze back to James.

"What about you?" she asked after a moment of hesitation.

"I got plenty of rest," he said. It felt true enough. Any amount of weariness he felt wasn't physical. He was, of course, in pain, but that was still expected given his condition.

Tori nodded slowly. "Good." She drew silent for a moment, and he could see her shift in place where she stood.

"We saw you were up, but we didn't want to bother you just off waking, y'know." Leaves rustled below them, the toe of her boot clearing away a small patch of dirt while she talked. "Is... now a good time to talk?" she asked gently. "About the pressing issues anyway," she added.

James blinked for a moment, noting her apprehension.

Though she wasn't saying it with her words, she said it in her eyes. Her body. Her posture.

His mere presence was making her anxious. It was more than worry about his survival. She was worried about the trouble that was following him this time. Because trouble was always following him.

"Of course," he said, trying to sound more breezy and relaxed than before. "What is it that concerns you?"

It was a question asked out of politeness, only because he couldn't bear to cut straight to the point. He was trying to treat this situation gently.

"Okay," Tori said to herself. "Remember, I told you that you don't have to explain in detail. We just need to know what, or who we're looking for, anything essential."

James nodded.

"I understand," he said simply.

Except that the answer to the only question she had would bring up a million more questions. He supposed there was no controlling that. But still, he had a feeling she'd be very tempted to renege on her offer.

"There shouldn't be anyone... immediately after me," he said slowly. "But the group associated with the person who attacked me is likely to come looking for me eventually."

He'd start small. Vague. To see how much they really wanted to fish for.

“A group,” Tori repeated. Her eyes drew narrow for a moment, not giving James much of a read on what she was thinking beyond the fact that she was thinking. “I have a feeling it’s not the Kingdom this time, if I can wager a guess.”

"No need to wager," James said, turning his gaze to his feet. "Unfortunately, I have a way of besmirching my reputation with many powerful people. As I'm sure you've already gathered, it's not a... mere group."

He was unable to look up and meet their eyes.

"The Blue Suns will probably be looking for me soon," James said lowly.

At the mention of the Blue Suns, Tori’s posture stiffened just barely in the edge of his vision.

"It... would be best that we move further from their territory," he continued. "We're not nearly far enough from the Outlands for my comfort."

The tension didn’t seem to release from her body until he finished speaking. She sighed long and hard, some of it catching in her throat. It very nearly sounded like a growl.

It appeared that it was distressing news. James expected as much, but he had a feeling Tori wouldn't respond so strongly unless she had personal worries of her own tied to the Blue Suns. Unless... he was wrong. And that was entirely possible.

He didn't really know her well. Especially not anymore.

“I see.” she said stiffly, before growing quiet once more.

Before she could continue, Jeremy shifted, his hand outstretched for the canteen in Tori’s hand. “I’ll refill all of these and start packing up,” he said softly.

Tori handed it over wordlessly, her gaze unbroken with James.

As Jeremy disappeared into the brush, she passed a glance that way, watching momentarily. When she looked back, she was more antsy than before.

“What the hell did you do?” she said in a whisper, trying to keep her voice low.

James looked off in the distance, where Jeremy disappeared, then looked back at Tori.

Even though it looked like she was desperately trying to keep a cool head, he could tell that she was already, immediately enraged at the thought of the Blue Suns being a threat. Rightfully so, but still. He wasn't fond of the anger being directed at him.

"I'm not sure it--" he started, and it was as if he could already see Tori's reaction before it happened.

If he deflected too obviously, she was only going to get angry all the more.

Of course it mattered. He couldn't say it didn't.

"It's a bit complicated," he said with a small wince. "I managed to... entangle myself in their affairs on accident. It wasn't by choice. Getting out of it was."

A pause.

He wanted to add a disclaimer, but doing so would only welcome more questions: ones he really didn't want to answer.

"I..."

His face twitched again, and he had to force the tension away from his face to his hands. Turning his hands into fists, he tightened his grip as he took in a small breath.

"I managed to get on the bad side of the leader of the Blue Suns. I'd rather not divulge the 'how' at the moment. I just think you should know this... isn't something petty, when I say they'll come looking for me."

He couldn't look at her. He didn't want to. He knew with everything he shared, the situation was only getting worse.

Tori shifted, her stance changing in the edge of his vision. She seemed to be pacing.

Eyes still fixed on the ground, he continued before she could say anything yet.

"I'm sorry you weren't made aware of this danger sooner," he said. "As I would've told you, were I not... out of commission for a few days. I know this is a weighty matter. So, if it would give you peace, I can part ways. I should be able to manage on my own, now, thanks to your help."

Finally, he looked up.

Her expression was full of confusion, yet also a concerning level of understanding. She was chewing at her lip, deep in thought as she met his eyes.

"I don't want you two to get any more involved than you already have," he said quietly. "I... I don't think you deserve that. The Blue Suns aren't just one bounty hunter. Once you get on their hit list, you're on it forever. They'll keep coming, and they won't forget."

“Don’t apologize for being out of commission,” she said firstly, her gentle tone conflicting with her posture. She opened her mouth, but slowly shut it. It was obvious she was still working through the severity of his explanation.

It took Tori a short moment to mull through what she was going to say. Eventually her pace slowed and she came to a stop in front of him, a hand pressed against her chest under her jacket.

“Tiberius…” she started slowly. “Believe me when I say I understand.”

And for whatever reason, she smiled, and her smile was full of sadness. When she met his eyes he felt like she was being sincere, and there probably was something she understood without saying, but he couldn't help but feel like she never fully could. Especially with only a fraction of the story.

His eyes flicked to her chest, only for a second. He didn't know why she had her hand over her heart. It seemed out of character for her to do something like that as a show of authenticity.

Maybe it was an old wound? Chest pain?

He was too afraid to ask. Maybe it was nothing.

"I can... leave," he said stiffly.

He didn't want to talk feelings. They wanted to know who to be looking out for and he'd answered that. Now they had to think about what was next.

"Unless you think I should wait for Jeremy," he said. "To say... goodbye."

“Stay,” she said gently. “Please."

He swallowed at that. The sadness in her eyes grew deeper, and he felt the all-too familiar guilt begin to wring around his throat again.

He couldn't find it in himself to argue.

"Okay," he said softly.

Tori sighed to herself, rubbing at her chest a bit and hiding a look of pain.

"I can explain my contribution to our problem in a second," she said. I've just got some pain flaring up. I need a second to breathe."

So it was an old wound, then.

He only nodded.

Tori’s gaze drifted off to the side as she stood there in silence, carefully rolling her shoulder. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes to exhale, turning her face skyward.

“I got it not too long after we split up,” she spoke quietly, eyes still closed. “I should tell you the story at some point.”

After massaging at her shoulder for a minute or so, her head lowered, eyes open again. She pulled her hand from her chest, stuffing it and the other hand into her pockets. Upon meeting his eyes again, her gaze moved to the ground.

“I… work here,” she said slowly, carefully. “Not for the Suns though, just to be clear. I try to avoid working jobs that involve them."

"Now I owe you at least some context," she continued. "Remember how I said I was decent with a rifle? Well…“ she huffed to herself. “The story is, I was gambling to make some extra change. It turned into a bit of a tussle, and me and a few other guys wound up having some long-range shooting competition outside. They were spouting bullshit, betting they could hit a board way across town at another tavern.” She shut her eyes, shaking her head.

“Anyway,” her eyes opened once more. “Most of them landed the sign. It wasn’t that small of a target, just far. I was the only one who hit the woman drawn on it on the forehead though. I did it three times for good measure."

She paused, her eyes narrowing a bit. “Shortly thereafter, I was approached by some individuals who had been watching the show. Their gang had been looking for someone like me to help protect their trading caravans and shoot down anyone that tried to raid them. They were long trips cross-country, and they paid good money. They weren’t out for blood or nothin’, just doing grunt work for the market. I didn't really know what else to do,” she looked back to James, searching his expression.

“So I took it,” she said softly. “I’ve been doing it ever since. Working as a gun for hire. Security."

Tori drew to a momentary silence, watching him carefully. She seemed to be waiting for him to make any comments before she continued on. James wasn't sure what kind of response she was expecting, but he didn't judge Tori for any of the choices she'd made in their time apart. It sounded like she'd found an honest job that paid an honest wage. If it was for a gang, so be it, but many people just trying to make it out in the Outlands worked for the local gangs. It was how people survived.

He did, however, wonder why this was relevant. It didn't seem like Tori was merely trying to play catch-up. There was something more, wasn't there?

"You always were a good shot," he said. "I'm glad you've been able to make a living off of it."

And now, to wait for the catch.

With a nod, she continued. "Yeah. Anyway, to get to the point," she drug her hand across her face. "Most didn't care that I was wanted for the manslaughter. It was when they found out I was a mage that everything started falling apart," she said. "I was able to stay on the down low for a while, but eventually bounty hunters caught wind of me."

She met his eyes.

"That's why I'm out here in this mess of a forest," she said with a gentle shrug. "So. I understand that much at least. Like I said before, you aren't required to divulge your story if you don't want to. I just felt I owed you mine."

James stared at her for a moment, his brain processing the implications of that last sentence.

She felt like she owed it to him.

They hadn't seen each other for years. They'd only known one another for a week. Tori was acting like they were lifelong friends, when really they only had a few days' worth of relational equity built up and that felt like ages ago. He wondered if, for Tori, she dwelled on it even more than he had. For some reason, he felt guilty at the thought, that perhaps the feeling of depth of connection wasn't equally mutual.

It wasn't that James didn't still care about her. It was just...

He'd changed. He was sure she had too. They were practically strangers, now.

She didn't owe him anything.

He flashed her a small, gentle smile.

"Thank you for telling me," he said softly. "I didn't know you were actively on the run as well. I'd say there was a pattern forming, but we've only met twice this way, now."

"Yeah," she whispered. Her gaze shifted to the side, breaking eye contact.

It was like she'd been able to tell he was only trying to be kind. There was a despondency in her manner, like, somehow, without him saying so, she already understood.

Things weren't going to be like they were four years ago.

The rapid, near-instant connection they'd had under the pressure of present danger was a cherished memory, but it also wasn't sustainable. They'd shared some very dark moments, but that wasn't the only thing a relationship could be built on.

He wondered how much they actually had in common. He wondered what kind of person she was now. He wondered how she saw him.

Did she see the James she first met? Or did she see who he was now?

Pushing those questions aside, James tilted his head, looking at her.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head.

"Not at all. I'm just realizing how long it's actually been," she glanced back his way, standing up a bit straighter. Then she met his eyes again. "We've changed a lot since then. Not just the hair either," she gave him a tiny grin.

James huffed through his nose, mustering a small grin in return.

"So it seems," he said.

Her expression slowly changed into a brighter one, gentler.

"Anyway," she glanced off into the distance momentarily, then back again. "Jeremy was telling me you got up earlier to go check your things out while I was still asleep. I'm glad you visited with Elliot. He seemed forlorn, is he doing better now that you're not sick?"

James wasn't really sure of that answer, but he grinned anyway.

"He seems like he's doing alright," he said. "Thank you for taking good care of him."

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “I would’ve braided it up or something to keep it tidy but… I still can barely manage a braid.” She chuckled to herself, scratching the back of her neck. “I would’ve had Jer learn to brush him down but… Elliot still doesn’t like being around him much.”

James pursed his lips together, nodding.

"Hm," was all he said. He really couldn't say why that was. Jeremy wasn't a bad seed as far as James knew, but sometimes Elliot could be picky.

Just as James began to ponder, there was sudden, indistinct movement he caught in the corner of his eye. All that he registered was that it was a person, and that they had suddenly come close.

Something shuddered through him like a jolt, and he drew away quickly, holding the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he whipped his head to see who it was.

Heart beating irrationally fast, James found himself merely staring at Jeremy.

He'd come back. Except James hadn't heard him.

Right. It was... fine. It was fine.

Forcing a weak laugh to diffuse the sudden tension, he grit his teeth into a smile.

"Ah... sorry," he said, knowing he had nothing to apologize for, but also not sure of what else to say.

He couldn't bring himself to loosen his grip on the blanket, but he desperately tried to relax his shoulders, so he at least appeared less on edge than he currently felt. There was nothing he could do for his rapid heartbeat, though. That he'd just have to wait out.

"Perfect timing," James said, eager to breeze past his adverse reaction. "We were just talking about you."

Jeremy nodded. "I... heard," he said slowly. It was as if he knew already. "Sorry to startle you. I walk quiet apparently." He held out Tori's canteen to him. "Force of habit."

James blinked, looking at the canteen, then to Tori.

"It's fine," he said quickly, looking at Tori. "Aren't you going to take that?"

She looked to be in thought, but she came out of it when he spoke to her.

“Huh? Oh.” She looked to the canteen. “I figured you could just use mine until you got yours off of Elliot, you’ve needed the water more than I,” she said with a shrug, taking it from Jeremy.

“Not to be too paranoid,” Jeremy muttered quietly. “But we should probably head out soon. We’ve been in this spot for too long…”

Tori hummed to herself, looking to James. “Do you feel well enough to ride? We’ll probably have to bushwhack again. It would be nice to have you on Elliot with Brenna so me and Jer can split the path.”

"I can ride," James said.

Whether he should be was debatable, but he didn't think it mattered much when they had to move regardless. He would make do.

Tori nodded, then turned to Brenna. She pet the horse on the neck for a moment before she began to secure all her saddlebags.

“It’s not thick for too long,” Jeremy quietly said with a stretch. “I’ve been keeping watch over the area and it thins out soon. Then we can move along faster. Hopefully laying low the way we did —and as long as we did— has thrown the… uh…” his eyes narrowed, pensive. “Associated parties off our trail,” he finished slowly, glancing to James.

"It's not like saying their name will summon them," James said dryly. "But I'm glad there's no sign of them."

Jeremy simply sighed long and deep. At that, Tori snorted a bit, chuckling over Brenna.

“Me too,” Jeremy said, ignoring Tori by shifting to face James. “Do you have anywhere in particular you were headed for before we found you?”

James had expected this kind of question, and despite the absolute empty echo-chamber of an answer in his mind, he put on a small grin and offered a shrug.

"Away," he said.

Jeremy stared him down, unmoving.

“I see,” was all he said, looking a bit baffled by James’s response.

“It’s not like he can go anywhere without getting his ass shot at,” Tori said into her saddlebags. She laid an arm on Brenna and leaned on her, turning to look at both of them with a keen eye. Jeremy drew a hand across his face. Tori smirked at that.

“Anyway,” Tori continued. “I’m packed and ready to go away if you two are done bumbling about.”

"I have to bumble over to my horse," James said.

Tori sighed out of exasperation, burying her face into Brenna's neck.

Huffing lightly through his nose, James turned and walked over to Elliot. He didn't look back as he approched from the front, making his presence to Elliot known before he pulled himself up into the saddle.

He'd long-since become used to pushing through pain, so he managed to do so without even a wince. He didn't think that was something to be proud of, but it came in handy when he didn't want people to fuss over him - which was always, but especially now.

Riding Elliot up to Tori and Brenna, James gave a small not to both Jeremy and Tori to indicate he was ready.

Tori peered toward Elliot for a moment from Brenna’s side, then her eyes lifted to give James a squint. Before he could make any remarks though, she gave their sad clearing a cursory glance. “Alrighty then,” Tori said under her breath. “Let’s get out of here.”

For two days they travelled.

The first day was uneventful and quiet. The three of them had come to an unspoken agreement, keeping to themselves until one of the horses needed a break, or someone grew hungry.

When they first stopped, Tori attempted to small talk with Tiberius. She’d ask how he was doing or see if he needed anything, but he’d only politely shake his head, offering little else for response.

Physically, he was improving, but it seemed like he was wrestling with something internally that she couldn’t place. She couldn’t muster the courage to ask him about it, so during later stops, she generally left him alone.

Occasionally he was more active, talking gently with her or Elliot. He seemed to shift between responsiveness and inattention.

Something deep inside her told her that she’d overstepped his boundaries, even though she’d done nothing but respect them. Another part of her felt as though he was simply traveling with them to appease her, only for sake of their brief history together.

She tried her best to comfort herself, thinking on places to head toward, or worrying about finding a new job. One that wouldn’t immediately recognize her as a criminal.

Night came upon them quietly, and they all settled down.

Jeremy saw it too. ”Something” he had noticed about Tiberius that seemed off. They both agreed to let Tiberius fully rest through the next few nights before they’d consider him taking watch alone.

On the second day, he was more distant.

It was starting to worry her. All too often she saw this level of absent-mindedness around those she worked with. Many were entrenched in drugs and alcohol, but to a much greater level than she was. She wasn’t quite sure this was the case for Tiberius, but the fact that the thought struck her at all was worth noting. He had been around the Blue Suns. For how long, she had yet to ask, but it wouldn’t surprise her if he’d picked up new habits during his time in the Outlands. The presence of all the drugs here had gotten to her, too, and it was an easy —albeit expensive— escape from the chronic pain.

She couldn’t do much to help him at the moment if it was addiction. Withdrawal would easily explain the severity of his delusions, working in tandem with the fever. She knew what it was like to go without for simply a day or two. The looming dread, sometimes she felt like she wasn’t physically there… those and other uncomfortable sensations would build up as time progressed.

Regardless of her suspicions, it was probably best to be careful with her supplies. As much as she respected Tiberius, it had been four years. He changed in that time. She didn’t know if it was for better or for worse, and she wouldn’t know until she could manage to talk with him for longer than a few minutes.

Perhaps she would try to speak with him later, if he looked well enough.

She pushed the thoughts aside, keeping her eyes forward.

As it was nearing nightfall, they came across a sensible spot to settle at for the night, fallen trees and some large rocks that were easy to hide behind.

Tiberius had already gotten off of Elliot and situated himself off to the edge of the clearing when Tori and Jeremy arrived. She watched him standing there with Elliot for a moment as Brenna came to a slow stop.

Yet again, she found herself thinking.

From what she could remember, he was generally pretty confident and had his wits about him. Now he was more… subdued. Introspective, maybe. She worried that he was concealing more than he let on with how quiet he had been these last few days.

Maybe he was simply tired. Her healing sessions with him had stopped once his fever broke. She knew he was still hurting.

Tori felt movement behind her, so she set her mental investigation down. Jeremy was already maneuvering himself off the saddle, carefully slipping down to the ground.

“I still don’t see how walking is any different,” he said, staring at her.

Tori simply sighed, slinging herself and her bag off her saddle, landing on the ground beside Jeremy. “You just have too much stamina,” she huffed. “Most normal people can’t travel this long on their own.”

“So… does that make me special?” He sounded coy and began twisting the edges of his mustache between his fingers.

She rolled her eyes, giving him a gentle shove. “Stop it,” she muttered, grabbing some food and her canteen from the saddlebags. Then she faced him, staring him down. “And when are you going to let me clean that rats nest on your face up?”

“Hm…” he pondered to himself, his hand obscuring whatever design he was making in his beard. His hand lifted, displaying to her what looked like the ugliest mustache shape she’d ever seen on him. “Maybe in a few years.” He gave her a gritted smile, his teeth barely visible under his overgrown beard.

Her pinched her eyes shut for a moment, exhaling. He knew what he was doing.

When she reopened her eyes, she took his still raised hand, folded a small helping of jerky and dried fruit into it, and then turned to leave. “I’ll be back,” she huffed, trying to sound unamused.

Then she walked over to Tiberius, stopping a few feet away from where he was sat down. She couldn’t tell if he was in one of his recurring dissociative states or not until she knelt down and could see his face better.

When he looked up and made eye contact, he already seemed more present.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

She nodded, happy to see that he was responsive.

“I just got you some fine dining.” She held the jerky and fruit out. “It’s not a lot, but still something.”

Tiberius flashed a small smile before he gently took the food from her hand.

"I appreciate it," he said. "Thanks."

Without much hesitation, he stuck a piece of dried fruit in his mouth.

Knelt there beside him, she was thinking on it all once more. Now was probably an alright time to ask him something, but where to even start?

She blinked back into reality, realizing she’d just been sitting there looming over him for the last few seconds.

He was watching her closely. Or curiously, rather.

"...Would you like to sit down?" he asked.

It took her a moment to process that he’d spoken to her. She didn’t really expect him to, given the last few days.

“Oh... I suppose if you’re not tired, I can sit and bother you then,” she said, plopping right where she was.

"Me being tired didn't used to stop you before," James said flatly, taking another bite of food.

She exhaled through her nose.

“Thanks for the compliment.” She put her chin in her hand, resting the weight of her head on her palm.

Listening to his chewing, she came to her conclusion.

She needed to ask, and stop putting it off.

“Can I ask…” she started slowly. “Can I ask how you came to the Outlands and got involved with the Blue Suns? It’s ok if it’s a bad time, I’ve just…” She swallowed, looking away. “…had it on my mind today.”

For a second, Tiberius stopped chewing. He looked up at her, and then down into his lap, swallowing to clear his throat.

"I'm not sure there's ever a 'good' time for... this," he said, his cadence stilted, like he had to think through every word.

"I'm sor—" she barely got out.

"It's fine," he said. "I don't mind you asking. You're right to wonder."

She bit her lip and folded her hands, growing quiet. There was a long silence that followed as Tiberius stared down into his hands, not having touched the rest of his food since her question.

"Have you heard of the spire?" he asked.

The "spire."

The sunspire. It was the core of the Blue Suns in Dagger's Heart. No one really came or went from there unless you were a part of their cult-like gang. It was where the leadership lived along with their many colleagues. A great majority of the lumshade she saw in transport came from there.

She nodded gently.

"That's where I've... where I was," he said quietly. "For the past year. I think."

He paused again, beginning to fiddle with the food in his hands. There was a small tremor in his fingers, and he seemed deeply focused on slowly peeling one of the pieces of jerky apart. Thread by thread.

"I would think myself lucky, to have run into some of the people I have by chance," he said. "But..."

Another long pause passed, as if he had to work through something in his mind before working it out of his mouth. The piece of jerky was still slowly being torn apart.

"Not long after we parted," he said. "I ended up in Goulon for a while. Further out, there were still some towns that hadn't gotten news of... of me. I had finally gotten ahead of the posters. I had a temporary reprieve.

"I decided to spend some time earning money, not knowing if I'd ever have another opportunity to do so honestly. I got a job training a difficult horse for a wealthy woman. I thought nothing of it. The pay was good. The horse had, ironically, been named Obedience - but she only was so after three months of me working with her, pretty much every day. The horse was a beautiful breed, and the owner thought it was worth the investment to have her properly trained. When I left, it was on good terms, and she had a well behaved horse."

He swallowed, playing with one of the strands of jerky in his hand, wrapping it around one of his fingers.

"I found out last year," he said. "That the owner was the leader of the Blue Suns."

He fell quiet for a moment, and then let out an empty laugh.

"Apparently she wasn't happy when she'd found out who I really was after I left," he said. "I thought she'd just want to turn me in and take the money."

His lips pressed together into a tense frown.

"...I wish she'd done that."

Tiberius finally looked up at her, but his eyes looked lifeless.

"Does that answer your question?"

His gaze told her he had been through hell and back since then.

"It does," she said slowly. "But if you hadn't done anything wrong really," she thought aloud. "What does she have against you then? Just... the fact that it was you? I'd be more upset at the one who hired you, personally..."

He looked back down into his lap.

"She hired me," he said. "Personally."

She gritted her teeth.

"Well," she ran a hand through her hair. "That explains it then."

"Yeah," he said weakly.

Thinking for a moment, she mulled over his story. He had yet to explain how he got here in the forest, as sick as he was, or how he had gotten himself out of what was essentially the Blue Sun’s central base of operations.

"So the last year then, you’ve been running from… all of them, practically, haven’t you? How did you end up out here?”

He fell silent, and she watched his adam's apple bob up and down. He curled his fingers around the food in his palm.

"I wasn't running for a year," he said, his voice starting to grow distant. "It's only been a month. Maybe."

“I see,” she said gently.

Somehow, she felt that a hug wasn’t the best of ideas right now, so she simply extended a hand to him, near to his. “If it’s alright,” she whispered.

He shied away with a small flinch.

"I... I don't know what that means," he said.

“Oh— I…” she blinked. “I figured holding hands was better than something like a hug. I should’ve specified, sorry.”

Tiberius seemed to withdraw more into himself, his shoulders pulling inward.

"I don't really want... that," he said, barely audible. "But I appreciate the gesture."

There was something in his voice that almost made her wonder if he was afraid.

She withdrew her hand, planting it along with her other one in her lap.

“That’s ok,” she said, trying to avoid being soft spoken. She knew that Reed had affected him by simply being up close and personal. “I’d rather you take care of yourself and feel safe, so I’m not upset.”

"...Right," he said with a small nod. "Okay."

Unsure that she should keep pestering him, she looked to her lap. “I can leave you be, if you’d prefer that. You’ve explained more than enough. I won’t bother you for more.”

"There's nothing else that worries you?" he asked. But he wouldn't move to look at her. "I'm sure it'll come up eventually. I'd rather get it out of the way now."

She huffed to herself, thinking on all the stressors she could possibly ask about. There were countless, and she didn’t want to confront them right now, nor give Tiberius something else to worry about. She knew he would.

“All I can really think of is how you ended up sick and in the woods here, but what with running for days on end…” she twiddled her thumbs in her lap. “It happens.”

Tiberius flicked his eyes up to her, but only for a moment.

"I pushed myself," he said.

“I’ve been there before.” She looked over, feeling the weight of all her past actions resting firmly on her chest, working into a knot in her scar. “I’m just glad we found you.”

She forced herself to smile in an attempt to soothe him from the painful story he had given. She couldn’t hide from the fact that she worried for his future. Would he push himself again when she wasn’t there? Would he survive long enough before he was found? Was it intentional? She didn’t know the answer, and she felt it was wrong to ask any of these sorts of questions.

Tiberius fell silent again, but this time it was like she could feel his attention leaving. He stared down at his hands, looking at the crushed food in his palm, like he'd forgotten it was there.

Saying nothing more, he began to eat slowly, not even looking at her at all.

She swallowed, feeling guilty for pushing him to this point.

“I’ll let you be,” she forced herself to say. She stood, giving him a moment to respond, but when he didn’t even budge, she quietly drifted away.

Upon returning to Jeremy nearby, she felt a pang deep in her chest, causing her to stop where she was standing.

“Gods,” she muttered faintly, her hand over the wound. She hadn’t even realized how tense she’d gotten while speaking with Tiberius.

“You ok?” Jeremy called to her, sitting mere feet away. “Do you need help sitting down?” When she couldn’t get any words out, Jeremy stood and helped her to where he had been sitting, letting her take his place on a smoothed out patch of ground. He sat beside her, supporting her back with an arm.

“Thank you,” she said weakly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

She leaned into him, trying to breathe gently.

After some time, the two of them watched Tiberius lie down, enveloped in his blanket.

“He needs help, Tori,” Jeremy said quietly. “His reactions… how he spoke…”

“I know,” she sighed, sinking deeper into his hold. “Somehow I doubt he’ll want to come with us to meet your friends though.”

“The rendezvous location isn’t that far off from here, but with the setbacks we’ve been having…” he glanced to Tiberius, then back to Tori. “The deadline has already passed."

Her and Jeremy were traveling deep into the woods to unite with a small group of people, supportive of mages and anyone else slighted by the kingdom. Originally, Jeremy would have gotten them there a day or so early at the speed that they were traveling. Then they stumbled across Tiberius. She’d blown through an entire week of their travel time, just sitting there healing him, trying to keep him alive.

“I know,” Tori whispered, knowing she was to blame for this stumbling block. If they hadn’t found Tiberius, they would have been out of here already. They would have been on the way to a safer space, one she hoped wasn’t riddled with Blue Suns members, mage hunters, and bounty hunters. That didn’t even include anyone from the Kingdom getting involved. The entire concept of a space like that existing sounded fleeting. She knew Tiberius would agree.

“Do you know if they’ll leave anything behind for you to find?” she asked, trying to ignore her depressive feelings. “Like hidden notes or some kind of trail only someone like you could follow?”

“I’m… not sure,” Jeremy said gently. “To leave anything behind would risk them being followed by unsavory types.”

“I see.“

She was at a loss for hopeful suggestions. In all honesty, she didn’t feel hopeful at all, knowing more about Tiberius’s soon-to-come pursuers. He never mentioned how many Blue Suns were after him, but with how it sounded, a great number were likely out for blood. She knew that if she and Jeremy were discovered to be assisting Tiberius, they’d also become targets.

Dread was all she could feel when she thought about their future. The depressing truth of it all couldn’t be simply held back or brushed aside. She felt it, and she knew Tiberius and Jeremy felt it too.

Jeremy patted her back gently then pulled her into a hug, rocking her in his arms.

“It isn’t your fault, Tori.” He said by her ear. “I wouldn’t have left him either. We’ll work this out, okay?”

With a weary sigh, she hugged him back. He was an observant man. He already guessed at the fact that she felt guilty for this whole mess. The issue was, she couldn’t shake it. The guilt clung to her, holding her close, filling the space in her heart with what should be comfort and love from Jeremy.

A weak nod was all she could muster.

Eventually he convinced her to lie down for the night. She curled up next to him, too exhausted from the day to find her own place to sleep. In the moments before she drifted off, she felt a blanket draw over her her shoulders.

Tori barely slept that night, even though she had laid down so utterly exhausted. She’d aggravated her chest scar with all of the strain she’d been putting on herself for the last week. Her back ached from sitting over Tiberius healing, her hands and arms were sore from cutting through thick brush, and her mind was aching from simply being awake.

After her watch was through and they’d all quietly eaten and drank, they quickly got moving again for the day.

It was difficult to ride with how she felt physically, but she didn’t dare complain. Even though they missed the deadline, it seemed Jeremy wanted to get there as soon as possible.

Occasionally, Jeremy would tap her hand or her arm to wake her because she’d drifted off in the saddle. She’d perk up and get Brenna back on track. Spacing out once more, she tried her best to hide the pain she felt while she was awake.

By the end of the day, she couldn’t take it any longer.

Once Tiberius and Jeremy were both preoccupied, she took her pain medication. She didn’t want Jeremy or Tiberius to pry or question why she even owned the medication to begin with.

She hadn’t divulged much about her recent history to Jeremy. Payment from some of the gangs she worked with wasn’t just money. The Outlands was filled with all kinds of drug trade, not just the lumshade. Sometimes she was paid quite heavily in them. She knew it was just to convince her to stay and help the gangs for longer, but she didn’t want to admit that she had accepted the offers more times than she could remember, solely for the drugs she could get out of it.

For Tiberius, in his wearied state of mind, she worried he’d see mental relief in the drugs, and she didn’t want to risk him making any bad decisions while she had her guard down. She also thought on his experiences with the Blue Suns in the sunspire. He may have been pushed into doing things he never truly wanted to do, based on how he explained his story the night before. It could have been drugs, helping with things he didn’t agree with for fear of being killed or discovered… she didn’t know.

She didn’t want to risk it coming between them. If either of them left her, willingly or not, she knew she would end up going down the wrong path. Jeremy was the closest supporter she had, and one of the few people in her life that she felt accountable toward. Tiberius was someone she wanted to protect, not harm.

Drowsiness came over her alarmingly fast, and she laid down early that night.

Another round of her watch came upon her, Jeremy nudging her awake to swap out. She got herself situated and fought her tired eyes as she watched Jeremy lie down nearby.

She didn’t hurt, but the price she paid was for it was her body fighting back in other ways than just pain. If she moved too quickly, it felt like the world was spinning. She couldn’t keep her focus, her body felt heavy enough it was like she was sinking into the dirt below, and her hands were shaking.

The fog lingering over her every thought was so thick, it was hard to keep herself awake.

She awoke to Jeremy knelt at her side, and the sun peeking through the trees.

He looked like he’d been trying to rustle her awake for the past minute or two. There was deep worry in his eyes, but also a sense of growing frustration.

“Are you okay?”

She raised a hand to her face with a groan to massage her brows and around her eyes, fighting the limp feeling in her arm from being asleep.

“I must’ve drifted off,” she muttered. “Sorry.”

“Tori,” he said firmly. “I asked you if you’re okay. Have you not been able to sleep during my watches?”

She couldn’t remember. The more she tried, the more it drifted away from reach.

“I thought I’ve been sleeping,” she said slowly, shamefully. “I guess not as much as I thought.”

A glance to her side. Tiberius was standing a short distance away with Elliot, watching her. He looked sad, but she was unsure if it was because of her, himself, or something else. When they met eyes, he looked away, petting Elliot.

Neither of them had been talking much since she’d accidentally scared him the other night. She didn’t want to bother him, so she’d left him alone. Apparently, he didn’t want to bother her either. The more time that passed in silence between them, the more she felt that she was to blame for it all.

Jeremy huffed to himself, pulling her out of her thoughts. He had a hand outstretched for her to help her up. He had his bag on him, and looked ready to leave.

It took her a few minutes to get up, pack her things, and get settled on Brenna.

Another uneventful and dreary day came and went.

Tiberius had been watching her periodically, much like Jeremy did when he was stressed. She caught an occasional, focused look from him during their rest stops, but she didn’t have the strength, nor the courage to talk with him. She didn’t know what she’d even have to talk about, anyway. All the times she’d spoken with him, he’d sunken back into the very emotions she was trying to help ease. She just did more damage.

That night, she tried to sleep without the pain medication.

Her chest pain kept her up the entire time. No matter what she thought to get her mind off of it, now matter how exhausted her body was, nothing she did helped her fall asleep.

Her and Jeremy shifted watch.

She watched the stars come and go through the clouds. She listened to the nocturnal bugs and animals rustle about.

Then it was morning.

The cycle repeated for the third time: Trek, breaks, trek some more, then finally come to a stop for the night.

They weren’t far from the area of forest Jeremy was aiming for. He planned to go out and scour the area in the dead of night while her and Tiberius stayed behind to watch the horses and rest. It was a few hours hike away at his pace. He wouldn’t be back until practically morning.

It would be a long night for her.

Tori spent the earlier hours of the evening while it was still dimly lit to tend to Brenna. Her mane had been neglected the last few days, so she brushed her out and gave her some solid attention, even though it was pitifully less than she usually gave.

She hadn't noticed Tiberius was standing just a few feet from her until he spoke.

"Hey," was all he said at first.

He had come up on her so quietly. She blinked hard in an attempt to mask the weight in her eyelids, then glanced over.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

"No. You look exhausted," he said. "I was wondering if you'd allow me to take over for you so you can lie down. I can take first watch."

She swallowed, slowly looking back to Brenna. Silence drew out between them, and she could tell he was focused on her, even though she wasn’t looking his way.

“I’ll be fine,” she said quietly. When she felt her hand starting to shake, she began running her fingers through Brennas mane. Hopefully it was dark enough that Tiberius didn’t see.

“I…” she started, but she stopped herself. Feeling the tension growing in her chest, she shifted in place, trying to inconspicuously ease it. She didn’t want to explain the wound right now. The last thing she wanted was to talk about how it felt. From experience, that just made every flare up of pain sink that much deeper.

"I can appreciate that you're trying to be strong in this situation," Tiberius went on. "But a watchman is useless if they're asleep with their eyes open."

She pinched her eyes shut. He was right.

“I’ve been trying,” she heaved under her breath. “It just,” she shook her head, defeated. “It just isn’t happening right now.”

"If you can't sleep, it doesn't hurt to at least rest," he said. "Lying down is no substitute, but it's better than nothing."

Tori looked up at the night sky, avoiding his gaze. Her voice nearly cracked as she let out a breath, and she was thankful it hadn’t.

“I can’t,” she began slowly.

"...Why not?" he asked, softer.

Just as she was about to speak, blinding pain ran her through.

“D-Damn it,” she stuttered, quickly clutching to Brenna’s saddle so she didn’t collapse. It took everything in her to stay standing. Her voice hitched as she turned her head Tiberius’s way, leaning against Brenna.

"Please," he said. "Let me help you. Can I guide you over to the clearing?"

He drew closer, but didn't reach out just yet.

As she heaved, she reached out for him with a wavering arm.

"Alright," he said, before putting an arm around her back, supporting her under her arms. Immediately, she sank into his grip. He slowly and carefully began to lead her step by step away from Brenna, and then helped her to lie down.

She was on her back now, and she didn’t remember when she had pressed her hand to her chest. It had become a habit of hers that she couldn’t hide.

“Sorry,” she forced herself to say, staring upward at him.

He was knelt beside her, looking down at her.

"Hey," he said. "That's my thing. I say all the sorry's."

A laugh escaped her that swiftly developed into a pained whimper. She swatted at his knee beside her. She was getting a taste of her own medicine from all those years ago, making him laugh when he was obviously in pain.

“Don’t ever,“ Tori choked back a cry, “let anyone run you through the ribs.” She shook her head in misery. “It hurts so much.”

Tiberius's face had been hard to read ever since seeing him again. All she'd really been able to detect was a constant, absent sadness. But at that, she saw what almost looked like a flash of anger in his eyes - gone as quickly as it came.

"Can I get anything for you?" he asked gently.

She couldn’t help her gaze drifting away.

He probably felt obligated to help her. She and Jeremy really hadn’t been letting him do much just yet. He had healed a lot topically with the help of her own energy, but there were still lingering issues that she wasn’t able to attend to after his fever lifted.

“I doubt anything besides a shit-ton of whiskey would help this,” she looked back his way, trying not to sound pitiful. “I don’t have any," she said, trying not to smile. "So it’s your lucky day.”

If he understood the far away memory she was referencing, he didn't show it.

"It's cold," he said instead. "May I at least fetch your blanket for you?"

She hummed slightly, carefully testing if the action would cause her chest to cramp on her again. Thankfully, it didn’t.

“That would be nice,” she admitted. “Thank you.”

With a small nod, he got to his feet and disappeared from view. She could hear his receding footsteps part in the direction of Brenna, and there were a few faint mumbles on his end that she couldn't understand before he drew closer, returning with a blanket in hand.

He looked down at her, still on his feet.

"Mind if I lay it over you?" he asked.

He was only trying to be nice and respectful, probably. It seemed he didn’t want to overstep like she had done the other day, absentmindedly putting out her hand.

Having to respond was tiring though.

“You can,” she said gently, lifting her arms up so she could keep them free for the time being. She didn’t want to feel restricted right now.

Slowly, he set the blanket over her, stretching it over her feet first and then bringing it up to her chest, where he dropped it and let it lay over her. When she dropped her arms, he squatted beside her again, just within view.

"Let me know if you need anything else," he said. "I'm going to be just over there-" he gestured over his shoulder, "- with Brenna. Alright?"

“Before you go,” she started before he could leave. “How…” A hesitant pause drew out, but she managed to find her words. “How do you manage the pain?” Her voice grew quiet. “…and stay asleep,” she finished.

Tiberius stayed still for a moment, his eyes turning upward. He stared out into the darkness with that same distant look, and she could only hope that he was just thinking, and that she hadn't lost him again. Trying to hold out for him, she remained quiet, waiting.

Finally, he spoke up. But it felt like she'd waited ages.

"When I was in the army," he said quietly. "Sometimes a soldier would get hurt beyond repair, but it wasn't enough to kill them quickly. A few times, I sat with people in their last moments, trying to give them something to hold onto before they left for good."

He paused, and when the pause lingered longer than she thought was normal, she feared he'd drifted off again.

"Most people want to be handed hope, even if it's not real," he said softly. "And comfort, even if it's not going to be alright. In moments where pain seems unbearable, sometimes I imagine... that I'm simply not alone."

He looked down at her, meeting her eyes.

"But I don't have to imagine, now," he said. "And neither do you. I think sometimes the comfort of knowing your suffering is seen is enough. Enough, at least... to put my heart to rest, so sleep can come."

He cracked a small smile.

"That, or I count sheep."

He was relentless.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

She fought to restrain the growing pressure behind her eyes. It was hard to feel such a way, even though she knew he was right.

“I think I needed that,” she responded slowly. “I will try to embrace it.”

She smiled weakly, unsure if he could even see.

"Just remember I'm not far," he said quietly. "Rest well, Tori."

"Goodnight, Tiberius."

"Goodnight," he said. And then she heard him walk away.

The melodies of the night returned, ones that should be lulling her to sleep.

She needed to actually talk with Tiberius, and stop letting it build inside her. That was why the old wound was flaring up to begin with. He had just been honest with her, the least she could do is be honest in return.

He saw her, even in her suffering. The same way he remembered her in his own. He thought of her when he didn’t want to be alone.

She let herself think back on when her and Tiberius first ran together, through the plains, past the lakes, and toward the Wilds. What little time they shared together was filled with tribulation, yet they still found moments of peace and happiness through it.

Eventually, the sleep slowly took her over.

James woke up to darkness, and it took his eyes some time to adjust. Tori had taken over for his watch a little past midway through the night, and even though she hadn't seemed well, she'd insisted she was well enough to keep an eye out and warn if anything showed up. Naturally, James wasn't going to argue, as he too, needed to at least attempt to sleep, but he did doubt Tori's presence of mind.

Even after what looked like some legitimate sleep, she was clearly still in pain. Whatever remained of the chest wound she'd received was clearly bothering her, evidenced by how much she kept massaging it. At first, she'd tried to do it when no one was looking. But over the past day or so, she'd resorted to holding it most of the time.

It was silly to think, but he almost wanted to ask if she'd ever seen a doctor about it. He knew the answer was no.

Sighing, James started to get to his feet, squinting into the dim partial light of the early morning. The sun was only just beginning to creep over the horizon, leaving everything still shrouded in shadows. Squinting out at the area around him, he quickly spotted Elliot, not far from his feet, and Brenna, close behind him.

As for Tori, however, she was nowhere to be seen.

Slightly alerted, James was quick to his feet and rolled up his blanket, stashing it on Elliot's saddle. Letting his eyes search the clearing more thoroughly, he still couldn't see any sign of her.

It was possible she was just a small ways off. Maybe taking care of personal business. Maybe checking something out. He wasn't going to let himself panic just yet, but if she was alone and something happened -- well, he didn't want anything to happen.

He hopped on Elliot, not wanting to leave the horses abandoned, and he loosely tied Brenna's lead the horn of Elliot's saddle, tugging it so she'd follow.

With both horses in tow, he began to weave through the trees, carefully ducking under branches. He didn't have many hints to lead him, so he merely had to pick a direction and go. Fortunately, he only went in a short circle around the area before he finally spotted her silhouette, sitting at the base of a large oak.

There wasn't any way to approach quietly, so he merely rode at a moderate pace while she came more clearly into view.

The sun was rising more, and its rays began to peek through the trees. Two rays striped over Tori's hand, which she held halfway in her bag. In the glow of the morning light, he could've sworn he saw an all-too-familiar purple glow reflect between her fingers.

The color of lumshade.

Just as he squinted to try to confirm what he saw, she quickly shoved whatever it was deep into her bag at her side, clearly aware of his presence.

Just as he paused down-wind of her, he caught the smell of smoke. Or rather, skunk. But he recognized it as cannabis, and it was then that he began to put the pieces together. Tori had gone away to take a smoke.

Whether it was out of desire for privacy or out of shame, he couldn't say, but she didn't look particularly pleased to be discovered.

If anything, she looked dismally melancholic.

Wafting away the thick, pungent scent with a huff through his nose, he rode up behind the tree, hopping out of Elliot's saddle without a word. Before addressing her, he simply took Elliot and Brenna's leads and tied them to one of the tree branches securely so they wouldn't wander.

He walked around the tree, standing a few feet from her, looking down.

As if ashamed of her existence, Tori finally acknowledge him with a brief glance, unable to meet his eyes. She said nothing as he looked down at the bag at her side, seeing it open, full of pill bottles.

He recognized some of them as medications to ease pain, but most of them looked like stimulants. Usually the kinds people took to... "have a good time."

He looked up to meet her eyes. She wasn't looking at him.

"Judging from your demeanor," he said simply. "I'd say you were hoping to keep this stash a secret."

She simply shrugged, sinking down where she was seated.

James huffed through his nose, taking a seat with her bag between them.

"Did it help?" he asked.

Tori turned his way finally, her eyes glassy.

She looked confused for a moment, but then it must have finally connected, because a hand lifted to rest over her heart.

“Help is… subjective,” she said slowly, her eyes narrowing.

James hummed.

"I understand," he said.

He let a pause pass between them as her gaze drifted away again.

"Does Jeremy know about...?" he asked slowly, glancing down at the bag.

“He knows I… have some pain meds. But…” Her voice drew quieter. “None of the others. I can’t smoke around him either ‘cause it hurts his nose.”

James glanced at Tori briefly through the side of his eyes.

Apparently Jeremy had a sensitive sense of smell. That was unfortunate, if they were living out in the wilderness often. After a while, everything stank.

Unsure of what else to say, James merely looked out into the forest, trying not to look in the bag. He didn't need to know exactly what kind of drugs Tori had on her, but there was something in his brain scratching in the background relentlessly, begging him to check.

His face twitched, and he looked away, locking his fingers together to have somewhere else to divert the tension.

“Don’t… tell him,” she spoke sadly. “I’ll do it, I just… We’ve been preoccupied.”

James glanced at her again, this time noting the sadness in her downcast eyes.

"I know it's not really my place to say," he said. "But... he deserves to know."

A long and steady exhale escaped her nose as she stared deep into his eyes. She didn’t say anything, but the exhale was enough to exhibit her understanding.

She looked toward her bag, then back to him with a squint.

"If his nose is as sensitive as you say," James went on. "He'll probably smell you when he gets back."

He paused, looking down at himself.

"Well, both of us," he said. "I'm pretty sure one minute in your cloud will have the smell stuck in my clothes for weeks."

She groaned, pressing her head back into the tree, closing her eyes.

“I was waitin’ for you,” she huffed to herself, gently chuckling.

"So that I would be roped into it too?" James asked, looking over to her.

It was becoming very prevalent that she was quite high. It'd be a while before she came back to earth.

“Roped into it?” she looked back to him and repeated it. “Into what?”

James raised his brows for a moment. This did not seem like it was going to be a very... productive conversation.

"I thought you meant you were waiting for me so I'd stink as much as you do, and Jeremy would think we both had been smoking, so I'd get roped into that conversation with him. You know, looking like I'd... been a part of it," he said.

"Except that you also didn't seem to happy to see me," he added. "So perhaps I misunderstood you."

She had watched him intently while he spoke, focused on his every word.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said clearly. “That’s why I hid this.” She rested a hand on the bag and its contents.

“I didn’t know if… you were struggling with this.” She gestured with her other hand at herself. “It worries me.”

"With... addiction?" he said slowly, making sure he understood.

“The Outlands are full of it, and Dagger’s Heart…”

"Produces it," he said quietly. "I know."

Tori's hand slowly folded the top of her bag over, covering the contents inside.

"I'm not going to spread addiction," she said gently. "I can't."

So, she wasn't working for them. But if she had that much on her, she'd definitely been flirting with the idea of it.

"I'm glad you came to that conclusion," he said quietly, not wanting to ask more. He feared if he pressed the issue that she'd only turn it back on him. He didn't want to address the issue head on either.

He was letting both of them avoid it. He knew it wasn't helpful, but he didn't want to have that conversation now. Especially not with Tori when she was high.

Hopefully, he wouldn't have to have the conversation at all.

"Do you feel any better after getting some sleep?" he decided to ask, changing the topic.

"I thought on what you said," she said softly.

"Thinking's... good," he said.

Tori sat herself up a bit then leaned over on her knees, holding herself.

"You ain't letting me finish," she huffed.

"What you said about not being alone," she began. "It... helped. But it's also why I'm here," she said vaguely.

This time, James said nothing in the space that followed. He only looked to her, waiting for her to continue and explain.

"I could've ended up with the Suns about two years ago," she said, voice growing low. "I met someone through a chain of jobs, and we grew close. Long story short..." she chuckled, but it sounded more like crying. "She was one of em. I almost followed her. I couldn't do it. Couldn't abandon Jeremy, or my family. I couldn't take the thought of being trapped there forever."

She was staring at a hand, focused on her palm.

“Even though I… didn’t,” her voice faltered. “Somethin’ inside me did.”

Hand balling into a tight fist, she clasped it within the other. She blinked slowly, her mouth hung open as she exhaled, slumping further forward into her knees.

“I’m sorry,” she whined, more anguished than before. Her hands pressed into her forehead, like she was using all of her strength to focus on staying present. “For— for ever considerin’ it.”

“‘M rubbin’ salt in th’ wounds,” she slurred, “bein’ here.”

Before he could ever open his mouth to contest, she continued speaking.

“Bein’ alone… would be so much easier,” her voice cracked. “I could give up,” she looked to him, barely meeting his eyes.

“I could give up, knowin’ I wasn’t causing anyone harm. But now, I…” Her eyes grew softer beneath the glassy haze. “…I can’t give up. Knowin’ you’re out there…” she said gently, starting to slow.

There was a slight flinch in her gaze, as if she’d missed something obvious.

“You’re here,” she clarified.

The presentness began to wane as her focus drifted from his eyes to somewhere in the brush behind him.

James stayed quiet, trying to process what she was saying. He wasn't sure how much of this was her speaking from an emotional low or if she actually meant it. He didn't know if he was really following it all, either.

"What do you mean... something inside you did?" he asked.

She hummed gently.

"It's like being torn in two... part of me feels missing. It's weird."

"What part of you feels like it's missing?" he asked.

"I think..." she started slowly. "Hope. Purpose. Dreams and aspirations."

Pausing, she looked down toward her bag.

"This shit doesn't work," she shook her head before she rested her forehead in her hand. "Can't keep my damn mouth shut."

James wanted to make a snarky comment, but he also didn't want to lose track of the small thread he was pulling on.

"Did you think you'd find purpose being with the Blue Suns?" he asked.

Her hand shifted to cover her eyes. It took her a moment, but eventually she nodded.

James's heart sank, but he couldn't find itself within him to be angry at her at all. She seemed under the impression that her confession would make him feel worse; it made him feel angry, sure, but only towards the Blue Suns. They were a malicious group, and he knew that their recruitment strategies were coercive and manipulative. He didn't blame Tori at all for being tempted by their persuasions, but it seemed that she blamed herself.

He leaned forward on his knees, looking over at her with what he hoped looked like compassion.

"That's not something to be ashamed of, Tori," he said softly. "They make it seem like that for a lot of people. That's why they're as successful as they are. They guise as a 'family,' but really all they do is make you a slave."

Her hand moved across her face, and he could catch a glimpse of tears being hastily wiped away.

"You didn't want to be found," she said weakly. "But... if we hadn't discovered you, I don't know where I would've gone."

Again, there were two things James could address.

Clearly, he'd said something in his delirium that Tori had remembered. But she also seemed to be processing her own journey at the moment.

"Where were you headed in the first place?" he asked. "Before you found me?"

"I'm not sure," she said quietly. "Jer found me and just... hauled me out here to go find his companions. I had clue where to go that was safe."

Her eyes shifted his way, watching him.

"Do you still feel that way?" she asked, sadness in her gaze.

"That there's nowhere to go that's safe?" he asked. "I suppose so."

He shrugged, forcing a smile that didn't meet his eyes.

When he smiled, the sadness in her eyes grew pained.

She grew quiet, looking forward slowly to stare into the trees.

He didn't know what she was thinking, but he had a feeling he might've said some things in his half-conscious state. Or at least, muttered some things that Tori was trying to piece together. He knew it couldn't have been... good.

"So... you're going to meet up with Jeremy's 'companions,'" James said instead. "Do you know who they are?"

She shook her head.

"Have you asked Jeremy what they're like?" James asked.

"They help mages," she said shortly. "Jer says they're a pretty capable group, and kind. We missed the deadline though, so I'm not sure when that will happen."

"Well, if they're kind, hopefully they'll wait," he said. "Or look for you."

She looked to him.

"Will you come with?"

James should've seen this question coming. His heart wasn't prepared for it. Regardless, he managed to make his expression soften, and he offered Tori a sad smile.

"There are probably mages in that group, right?" he asked.

She squinted hard at him, causing her nose to wrinkle.

"Jeremy assured me that you can come with," she said firmly, "despite your history."

James schooled his features to keep from frowning.

"That's very generous of him to say," James said. "But I don't think they know I'm coming."

"Will you at least meet them first?" she asked, countering him. "To see if they'll support you or not..."

"I've killed mages, Tori," James said more seriously. "It's more likely they'd want to kill me than let me join them."

A twitch hit one of her eyes, then her brows furrowed.

"Well," she huffed through her nose, looking forward. "What better option do you have to try besides collapsing somewhere out here to die?"

Again, James fought to keep a cool countenance.

"If only to put you at peace, I'll give it a shot," he lied. "Alright? But if they start shooting at me, I won't be keen on staying."

She passed a sharp glance his way, staying quiet. The look she gave made it seem like she wasn't believing him.

So, she didn't trust him. That was fine. He didn't trust Jeremy's "friends."

Sighing, he looked away from her, off into the forest. Wasn't Jeremy supposed to show up soon? He could use an excuse to cut this conversation short right now.

"...What happens if I don't want to join you?" he asked quietly. "Will you let me go?"

Instead of lying more, perhaps it was better just to push her away.

Painful silence.

Tori weakly inhaled.

"If you truly want that," she quavered. "I won't force you to stay."

James grit his teeth together, still refusing to look her way.

He didn't want to explain himself. He didn't want to feel obligated to. He didn't want to talk about his reasons, or what he was feeling, and he didn't think it was fair.

He'd spent a year with no control over his life. The last thing he wanted was to join another "group" and get roped into someone else's prerogative. Maybe Jeremy and Tori would fit in just fine, but James didn't want to join a group where anyone who saw his face would see the face of thr kingdom. The face of a killer. The face of the persecution they'd faced for decades.

He didn't want to prove himself again. He was tired of trying to convince people he wasn't a threat - because he was.

"...I'll think about it," he ground out through his teeth.

He got to his feet.

"I'll--" he started to say, but as he turned away, he saw Jeremy, standing a mere few feet in front of him.

Arms folded, he stared at James with a frown full of disapproval.

James didn't bother to ask Jeremy how long he'd been standing there.

"You're back," James said flatly. "Good. We should get going."

He walked through the space between Jeremy and the tree, making a beeline for Elliot.

Two days felt like two years at the pace they were moving. The tension in the air was heavy, and James couldn't help but feel the wrestle in his own heart, constantly kicking against the trap he felt like he was being led into.

Between James, Jeremy, and Tori, hardly a word was spoken. James was tired of having to mediate other's emotions, so he left Jeremy and Tori to themselves. Problem was, Tori was pulling away from everyone as well. It made for an awkward, silent few days, but James was just happy to not have the pressure of appeasing anyone anymore.

That wasn't to say he wasn't grateful for Tori and Jeremy's kindness. He understood the risks and sacrifices they'd made to help him, and he didn't want to spit in their face for that. But he didn't want anything demanded of him in return, either. He wasn't required to go with them for any reason, even if their friends really were the forgiving type.

Forgiving or not, he wasn't interested.

Boiling in peace, James sat under the shade of a pine tree, with Elliot tied to the branch above him. His horse nibbled at the grass below while James stared up at the dark sky. It had been years since he could see the stars, now. He knew they were out there, but they were of no use to him anymore. He just had to navigate by other means.

Not far from him, under the shade of a feathery oak, Jeremy and Tori began to settle down with Brenna. He could only really overhear some faint mutterings, but nothing comprehensive to him. James glanced over at Elliot, watching as he ate at the grass.

The only thing James found himself wishing for was something to do with his hands. If he hadn't left in such a hurry, maybe he would've been left with at least a journal and some paper... not that he'd be able to write in the dark, anyway.

"I'm sorry about everything," James said, barely audible.

Elliot didn't look at him, but James pretended he was. He let a long pause pass, only able to make out the silhouette of Elliot's head anyway.

"I'm not a good person anymore, Elliot," he whispered.

Leaning back into the trunk, he felt his heart sink into his stomach. Heavy.

"I don't think I ever used to be..."

He let out a long sigh, staring out into the forest in Jeremy and Tori's direction. Soon, they'd tell him they were turning in for the night, and who was on watch. James never made those plans. They always did.

He knew they didn't trust him.

"Would you go with her?" James asked, barely audible. "Would you be happy?"

He didn't know why he was even asking. Elliot was a horse. He'd... he'd be fine.

He'd be fine.

Taking in a deep breath, James looked over at Jeremy and Tori. He really couldn't see much of them in the dark, and with no light, all he could really decipher of what was happening was that someone was probably prone, and someone else wasn't. Then again, it was possible he was interpreting a tree to be a person. It had happened before.

Pursing his lips, he waited until, after some minutes passed, Jeremy walked over, hands on his hips.

“You should sleep,” Jeremy said quietly.

Jeremy was a little overbearing sometimes, but James knew he was probably stressed dealing with Tori as well. James was aware that her being caught smoking was contributing to the tension.

"Will do," James said plainly, closing his eyes.

“You’re on guard duty after Tori tonight.”

James took in a slow breath.

"Okay," he said.

Jeremy drew quiet, no footsteps signaling his departure just yet.

“Before I go,” Jeremy’s voice sounded out ahead of him, no longer from above. “I haven’t had the chance to thank you for being honest with her. It hurts to face the truth of the matter, but it needed to be said.”

James opened his eyes.

Jeremy had been eavesdropping... the whole damn time?

Jeremy was squatting, a few feet away from him, more at eye level. Problem was, they were both in shadows, so it wasn't like James could make out his expression. The only thing he could gather from the shadow of Jeremy's body language was that he was trying to keep his distance.

"Do you make a habit of listening in to other people's conversations?" James asked. "Or did you only do it that time, because you wanted to see what we'd say when you weren't around?"

Jeremy sighed.

“I overheard when you brought up the group we’re waiting on, but I heard nothing more,” Jeremy explained. “I apologize for not showing myself sooner, it was wrong of me to eavesdrop.”

James clenched his jaw.

"...You're forgiven," he said stiffly.

“Acknowledged. Well,” Jeremy breathed lightly. “I would give her words a wide berth. I know she simply cares for those she holds dear, but unfortunately she can be a bit grating about it. Thank you for being there for her so she didn’t do anything reckless.”

James nodded slightly.

"Sure," he said.

“Goodnight,” Jeremy said as he stood up.

And then he left.

Finally left to himself, James closed his eyes once more.

Jeremy didn't deserve that. Gods, James didn't want to think about it anymore. He turned his head to the side and leaned into the tree, waiting for sleep to come.

"Tiberius."

James's eyes shot open and he sprang to his feet. Someone beside him had been squatting and toppled over, and it took James a moment to realize that it was Jeremy.

Trying to shake off the rush of adrenaline, James shook his head and extended a hand to help Jeremy up. He'd just been trying to wake him up, apparently.

But wasn't Tori supposed to be on watch?

"Sorry about that," James said lowly, waiting for Jeremy to take his hand. But he never took it.

"She's gone," he said.

James blinked.

"What?" he asked, brows furrowing. "Tori?"

“Yes,” Jeremy hissed. “Her things are gone, I tried finding her before waking you, but I don’t sense her nearby at all. Her bag is missing, she took her rifle and ammo with her too—Gardener provide, I…” he cursed. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her take watch.”

"What do you mean 'sensed' her nearby?" James asked, narrowing his eyes.

Jeremy groaned there on the ground, sounding frustrated with himself.

“I’m a shifter,” Jeremy said bluntly. “Werewolf," he added. "I can explain more later.”

He took James’s hand. Finally. James pulled Jeremy to his feet, holding onto Jeremy's arm firmly for a moment once they were face to face.

"That's explanation enough," James said lowly. "Let's find Tori."

He let go, turning to Elliot to wake him, only to see that all of the stirring already had.

"We should split up," James said. "We'll cover more ground faster. Do you have any idea what direction she went?"

“Right,” Jeremy shakily sighed.

He put both his hands up and held his head. Slowly spinning in place, eventually he walked himself to the edge of the clearing. “She left through here, and it seems like she’s headed straight out,” he said, outstretching an arm to point his fingers the direction he thought she went. His head flicked upward quickly, then to James. “West.”

James had a feeling Jeremy was pointing to stars. It was an inference, since he could only gather the direction from Jeremy's pointing, not the sky.

This was why James had a compass.

"Alright," James said, hopping into Elliot's saddle. "I'll follow you for now, but if you lose her trail, we'll fan out."

“Understood,” Jeremy replied.

Brenna had also woken up during their conversation. Jeremy swiftly got himself seated in her saddle, and turned her westward. He looked back toward James.

“I’ll come to a stop when I lose her trail, or if I sense anything of concern,” Jeremy said.

"Understood," James said. And with that, there were no more words; only action.

Jeremy led the way on Brenna with a focused pace. James was able to keep up behind him, but he found himself having to trust Elliot's sight even more than his own, hoping he wasn't leading his horse into any dodgy territory and that he was following well enough in Jeremy's path - which was presumably good enough for Brenna, and hopefully them.

The sky was still dark, and it would be another three hours before it came up in its fullness, meaning they had that long to find her before she got too far ahead of them.

James, did, however, have confidence that they could at least catch up to her if she was moving. She was on foot, and they had their horses with them. What James did worry about, however, was the condition they'd find her in.

Her chronic pain had been visibly flaring up even more since his last real conversation with her. She was consistently pushing through it, but he knew what it felt like to be in a never-ending fight with your own physical frame. At some point, it would stop listening, and break down if you didn't rest.

That, and he didn't know where Tori's head was at. He didn't really know her anymore.

What drove her to run away of all things? What did she have to run from? If all she wanted was some space to think or process, it was an unproductive and unhelpful way of doing so.

Not that he was in any place to judge on that matter.

Eventually, Jeremy's trail came to a stop, and he could see Jeremy's shoudlers shift as he looked back at James.

Though James couldn't see his expression, he could only imagine it was helpless and grim. The only reason Jeremy would've stopped was if he lost the trail. And if he lost the trail, that meant Tori would've deliberately tried to hide it to throw them off. When she was talking about Jeremy's "sensitive nose," what she really meant, evidently, was that he could smell her a mile away. Jeremy was a werewolf. That mean he had heigtened senses. If he'd lost her trail, that meant she was at least another few miles away.

If she'd made it that far.

Steeling himself, he nodded to the left. Jeremy nodded to the right.

James going southward, and Jeremy going north, they parted ways, beginning to search the forest around them. James didn't know at what pace Jeremy was able to manage with Brenna in tow, but James slowed down quite a lot without someone to follow anymore. It was near impossible to see the ground in the shadows of the trees, and he didn't want to rush Elliot for fear he'd trip, or his hooves would catch on something.

Even if James got on foot and let Elliot himself, it wouldn't make much a difference.

So his search was gradual. Tree by tree, bush by bush, he weaved his way in and out, checking everything bit by bit. For a few miles, he came up short with nothing.

That was, until he smelled smoke. Cigarette smoke.

Squinting into the darkness, James turned his head to find the source, waiting a moment to determine what direction it had wafted from. When he determined it was just ahead of him, he finally dismounted and began to lead Elliot through the brush trepidatiously, aware that he could be stumbling upon anyone. It wasn't guaranteed to be Tori.

But when he rounded a tree, he saw a familiar pair of boots sticking out on the ground in a patch of faint moonlight.

Finding Tori in a similar position as he'd found her last time she'd had a smoke, he casually tied up Elliot on the tree behind hers before approaching, not bothering to hide his footsteps. As expected, Tori was dejected and didn't look at him even as he walked up beside her. She was sat up with her back against the tree trunk behind her, staring vacantly into the sky.

Probably looking at the stars.

Without saying anything, James plopped down a mere two feet from her. Leaning back on his arms, he looked up at the sky, pretending to star gaze with her, even if he couldn't see a thing.

He didn't keep track of how long they sat there, but she didn't send him a sideways glance, nor did she greet him, or acknowledge his existence. And yet, she hadn't told him to leave, so he didn't move from where he sat.

He thought over what to say for a while.

There were many things that could be said, but he didn't know what would be most helpful in the moment. He didn't think it would do much good to say a whole spiel, and he didn't want to cut right to a question, either. She didn't seem like she wanted to talk, and he didn't want to force her to.

So he decided on doing something long overdue.

"You were the first person who showed me kindness that knew who I really was," he said quietly. He let a small pause hang in the air after the confession.

"I never forgot you for that."

He let his gaze drift downward, growing tired of craning his head up to something he couldn't appreciate. Pulling his legs inward, he leaned forward and hugged his knees with a sigh.

"I can't remember if I ever gave you a proper thank-you. But you deserved one. You deserved a lot better than what I gave you," he said. "Which was nothing."

Drawing his hands together, he began scratching at the skin on his hand. He glanced at her, briefly, and he caught a small huff as her shoulders heaved with the sigh.

"So... I'm sorry," he said. "And thank you."

She did nothing for a short time, focused on the sky.

With a smooth motion, she brought the smoke to her lips, breathing in long and deep. Her eyes closed for a moment, then she let it go, head turned to the side to exhale away from him.

Once done, she sat up a bit straighter, then leaned against the tree again. She still hadn't looked his way yet.

“You’ve been forgiven,” she said gently.

And it seemed like she meant it. He waited for her to say more, but instead, more silence passed.

He couldn't think of what else to say.

Tori looked to him, her head tilted to the side.

“From one runaway to another,” she spoke clearly. “If you were in my position, what would you have done? What would you have done if someone from your past,” she looked out at the stars once more before she continued, “someone who you cherished every moment with, the good and the ugly; someone who lifted you from the mire, who fought for you, who risked his life for you…” she drifted off.

The moment she started speaking he knew what this was about. She was still hung up on what he'd said that he didn't even remember saying. He hoped this wasn't going to become a message about accepting help.

“What would you do? If they, four years later, were found nearly dead in the forest? You put your life on the line, giving everything to save someone who you still love and hold dear. You protect it. You pull them from the mire, clothe them, respect them and who they may have become over the years,” she took a gentle breath, “because, after all, God only knows how much they’ve changed.”

Her voice had begun to waver, but it was soon curbed after she took another puff of her cigarette, blowing it to her side, away from him once again.

“What would you do if every look they gave you, if any, when you spoke hope and tried to help, was one of disdain. Not of you, and the help you’ve provided, but upon themselves?”

She looked to him, shifting her body to fully face him.

“They say they remember the good about you, but all they can seem to express is that they never wanted to see you again."

"What would you do?"

James didn't know if Tori had planned on telling him this eventually, or if he'd stumbled into it, but if felt like he'd stepped foot in a trap.

There was no good answer. He knew she was talking about him. He wasn't going to lie, and he couldn't give her the 'right' answer in good conscience.

"You're angry with me," he said instead, voice quiet as he looked away from her, down at the ground.

“I’m angry at those who have hurt you,” she said, “who won’t forgive you, or listen to you. Those who lack the patience to stay. Not once have I had an ill thought toward you, Tiberius. No matter how deserving you believe yourself to be.”

James found himself shrinking under her words.

So she was angry at him, then. He fit that criteria. He just didn't have a good reply to give, nor the motivation within himself to try to put on a face.

There was a moment of silence, and then a rustle. A match struck and soon her candle came into view, set carefully in the small space between them.

“I apologize for contributing to the problem,” she spoke gently. “My being reckless, my actions… my inactions, have not benefited you. But I already know you don't hold that against me, I was never the issue.”

In the edge of his vision, she shifted back into her seat against the tree. Not much time passed before she took a hit of her smoke again and continued to speak.

“I don’t know what all goes on inside your head,” she sighed softly. “What I do know though, is that I think I can understand at least a little bit of what you’re feeling after some time thinking on it. I tried putting myself in your position.”

“This wound that aches every day, that bothers me, drags me down,” she began. “When I lost Gisa and my companions those four years ago, and after you went your way, I lost my direction. I lost my sense of self, my purpose. Everything I had began to crumble.”

"This wound is from a place of hopelessness. I felt as though everyone, even myself, was against me. Nothing I tried helped anything, nothing anyone did could help me feel like myself again. Drugs, alcohol, beating myself senseless as if that would help, I pushed everyone away. I thought that if I had never existed, and if no one ever knew me, the world would be a better place.”

“I got hurt, clearly,” she said dully, shifting in place to press her hands into the grass at her sides. “I walked straight into it, knowing I wouldn’t come out alive.”

After a pause, she sighed.

“The fact that I’m still here today is because people I least expected to saved me. They were people that I’d hurt before," her voice wavered, "like my father, and Jeremy. There were others too. They fought for me and protected me, even after all that I’d done to them."

"My father especially. All I had to offer him was hatred and bitterness. I hated him for things that I couldn’t move on from, for things he had apologized for and grown from. He had done nothing wrong to me. He knew it, and I knew it. Every kind and forgiving motion he made toward healing our relationship, it drove me insane."

"So really, I hated myself. I hated what I’d become, and the deeds I'd committed. It's become more bearable having met the strong men and women I have," she said gently, "who had seen from their own journeys where I'd been. But it's still hard to face it at times.”

Tori’s words grew still as she simply breathed for a time, an occasional rasp clawing its way out of her lungs. Her hand had begun to slowly comb through the grass at her side.

“Anyway,” she huffed through her nose. “Tiberius, this is a long winded way of expressing that I see you. I see you for who you are, someone lost and confused, broken, wrestling with things inside that have yet to make sense. But I also see you as someone strong and independent, fighting tooth and nail for your life and your dignity, straining against the lingering damage of those who have hurt you, writhing against the thought of yourself and the shame of it all."

"I see you,” she grew quieter, "even if you don’t see yourself.”

Everything inside him started going cold.

James didn't know what compelled Tori to be like this. What compelled her to care? What made her so invested in him? Why would she open up her heart to him like this, knowing he'd try to push her away again? It was only making it harder on both of them. He didn't know how to tell her it wasn't worth it. He didn't have the heart to. He could already hear her objections in his head - or maybe they were just his own, and he was putting them in her mouth, in the conversation in his head.

For far too long, he was torn between saying the right thing and the honest response in his heart. The right thing to say would be "thank you." To appreciate her words openly, and to receive them.

But all he really wanted to do was disappear.

Yes, she saw him. But he didn't want to be seen. Just once, he wanted nobody to notice him. Just once, he wanted nobody to care. He wanted to be nobody. He wanted to be nothing. He was exhausted, always, and he didn't want to try anymore. He was tired of being polite. Tired of being nice. Tired of everything, always, blowing up in his face no matter how hard he tried.

He brought his hands to his face, resting his fingertips at his brows. It casted his face in shadow, and he couldn't see Tori out of the corner of his eye, even with the candlelight.

"You... running away," he said slowly, keeping his voice steady, but quiet. "Why did you run off?"

Was it all just to ruminate on this? On him?

“I was frustrated with myself,” she said, “for acting the way I have been. I needed to let it out, and I didn’t want to hurt either of you.”

"You couldn't have... let us know you just needed to go process?" he asked trepidly. "We were worried."

After a moment of silence, she sighed.

“I know,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

James pursed his lips, nodding behind his hands.

"You're forgiven," he said softly. "I'm just glad you're alright."

And at that, they fell back into silence. For quite some time.

James had a feeling that Tori had more to say, but she was withholding it. All of her questions, worries, concerns were filling the air like a balloon but he couldn't hear them. He just felt the pressure around him.

Swallowing, he lowered his hands from his face, trying not to look like a turtle poking out of its shell.

Everything inside of him felt apprehensive. When he glanced over at Tori, he could see her sitting with her hands neatly folded in her lap, holding her cigarette. She was looking out at the forest, instead of the sky, and somehow she seemed at peace. Not... angry. Or irked. Or shut down, like before.

She didn't seem in a hurry. Even with the knowledge that Jeremy was obviously worried sick looking for her. It wasn't very considerate, but then again, she hadn't communicated about leaving in the first place.

He doubted he could drag her back to their camp at the moment. She seemed to be in a state of mind where she wasn't looking to move on at the moment, and he didn't really want to argue with her if she was going to give another lengthy monologue.

Then again, he didn't know if he wanted to sit this long in silence either.

He was restless.

Looking down at his hands, he realized he'd been scratching at the same spot the whole time. Now the skin felt raw, and some of it was peeling.

He subtly turned his fidgeting to tapping, dancing his fingertips over his knuckles instead.

"Every friend I've ever had is dead, wants me dead, or I never saw them again," he admitted quietly.

There was a small pause.

"You're the only exception."

Another pause.

"And I don't know if you would even call me that. Friend."

Tori glanced his way, then back forward. Her posture relaxed somewhat, the tension in her shoulders easing.

“I could say the same for you, y’know.” She blinked hard with a huff through her nose. “I hadn’t ever thought about it this hard. I consider you someone dear to me, even though we’ve spent maybe a few weeks together. It just… happened.”

He hummed softly.

"Yeah," he said. "Strange how that happens."

She chuckled to herself, playing with the cigarette between her fingers.

“Well, strange as it is, it’s not uncommon. Gisa befriended me after I stole from her camp. Spoiled shit named Dustin too, I knocked him out for scaring me, and then he stuck around. Jeremy… it was one of those carvings I was doin’. He said he liked it.”

Her head tilted his way, as if leaning on her own shoulder, but she was still looking out at the forest.

“With you it was bein’ runaways, at first. Then I think…” her words drifted momentarily. “Maybe it was the shitty jokes. You had it out for me, I knew that much.”

James shook his head slowly, looking away.

"I never had it out for you, Tori," he said quietly.

“It was endearing, I mean it as a compliment,” she said. “Somethin’ about it was special enough to me that I still remember it after all this time.”

A pause.

“Do you still have that harmonica of yours?”

He tilted his head to the side, towards her, forcing a weak grin that barely formed.

"No," he said with a forced laugh. "I lost it long ago."

“Out of all the stories I’ve heard, that has to be the the most tragic of all of them.” She flopped her gaze his way to meet his eyes, then looked forward again, in thought.

She blew a puff from her cigarette out to her side.

“Maybe you need a tuba,” she said deadpan.

"I don't think I have the space for one in my bag," he said. "But maybe if I get a bigger backpack."

She eyed him, a gentle smile forming, then to the night sky.

“No one would ever recognize you then. You’d become some sort of wandering minstrel.”

"Already tried that," he said weakly. "But good idea."

"Damn it."

"It's the performance part - you know, being on a stage. Being seen. Harder to hide in plain sight," he said. "There's more chances to be recognized."

“Makes sense,” her head nodded softly, “plus it’s harder with scars, I think. That’s been me with my tattoos.”

James found his tapping had turned to scratching again, without his conscious knowledge. Stiffening, he curled his fingers, turning his hands into fists and shoved them in the crooks of his arms.

"Right," he said faintly. "It... complicates things."

His eye twitched slightly as he looked away again, trying to suppress the memory that was trying to crawl out.

He caught Tori looking at him from the corner of his eyes, and he tried to avoid eye contact as another silence passed, this one more uncomfortable than the last.

"I--" Tori started.

"So--" James started at the same time.

Snapping his mouth shut, James shook his head quickly. Unfortunately, Tori had the same idea to defer, and they both ended up shutting up as quickly as the spoke up.

“You first,” she said as she began to shift from sitting to lying on her back.

James stuttered, running his hands up his arms as he leaned back and forward once more, readjusting his posture and tucking his legs in tighter.

"I... I don't even know what I was going to say," he muttered quickly. "I don't really know what to talk about anymore."

What he really meant, was all that he might've tried to say would've been more meaningless babble, and though those kinds of conversations were valuable in their own right, he couldn't shake the feeling that it felt fake. Like he wasn't just trying to appease Tori, but also some part of himself, that would rather speak about nothing than anything real.

“That’s alright,” she said quietly. She pulled her bag over and stuck a hand in, rummaging around. "I don't mind just sitting."

"What about Jeremy?" James asked quietly.

“He knows I’ll come back.” Her rustling stopped, hand still hidden inside the bag, and she let her head flop to the side to look at him. “If I was really dumping you two, I would’ve taken Brenna.”

Fair point. Still. They'd been right to worry.

"Jerky?" she asked, hand outstretched with it.

James looked at it, then up at her.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

“Bummer,” she huffed, already sticking the end of the jerky in her mouth to chew on it. “Oh well,” she mumbled, adding her cigarette to her lips to close her bag with both hands. She shoved it to the side, then took her cigarette in hand once more so she could properly eat.

Tori chewed away at her jerky. After a while of watching the stars, she took her jerky in hand and tilted her head his way, not really looking at him directly just yet. “Is something bothering you?” she asked gently. “I don’t mind listening if there is.”

A momentary pause.

“I also don’t give any stupid ass advice. I can’t stand that, people telling me how to feel or think. Sometimes, all I ever needed was to simply feel heard.”

James didn't know what came over him, but he laughed mirthlessly. It came up like a weak chuckle. A release of anxious energy, even though it wasn't enough.

"You want me to open up," he said through a tense smile as he rubbed his forehead, pinching his eyes shut. "But I don't know what to say, Tori. I don't... you shouldn't have all of it dumped on you, anyway."

"I understand that," she said quietly. "It doesn't have to be a lot, but if you think it's all gonna come out at once, I can wait. Like I said, you aren't expected to explain anything to me if you don't want to. It just helps knowing what I should and shouldn't do, y'know?"

James swallowed thickly, clenching his jaw.

At least that was a practical question he could attempt to answer.

"I suppose," he started slowly. "It'd help to, um. Not... touch me unannounced. My hearing's gotten pretty poor, too. So it helps if you speak up. And I'd appreciate if that wasn't something used against me. The fact that I can't hear well, I mean. I may ask you to repeat something if I don't catch it. It's not because I'm not listening."

Tori hummed long and hard.

"Okay," she said. "So eyes and ears are both a struggle. I'll work on speaking up, and being more clear. I figured early on that you'd gotten uncomfortable with the unannounced touch, I'll keep it in mind so I don't act subconsciously without thinking."

Her figure shifted in the corner of his eye.

"Thank you."

When she looked over at him, her eyes were filled with a tender affection he found himself internally recoiling from. Looking back down at the ground quickly, he felt a frown forming. Deepening.

He swallowed hard again, wishing Jeremy would find them already.

"You're... welcome," he forced out, his words feeling squashed by his tightening throat.

She hummed again, quieter than the last time.

“I’m going to make a guess that something about my expressions or facial features is bothering you,” she said weakly. “I can focus on that too. Bein’ more...” she said slowly, “I dunno… deadpan, I guess? ‘M not sure if that would help or not.”

"No that--" he started with a pained wince. "That would be unreasonable. You shouldn't have to change everything about yourself just to appease me. It's fine. Really. It's not... it's..."

Every part of him was winding up in knots. Tension was building to the point where it pained him.

He wanted to escape, but he wasn't even trapped. Still, something was clawing at his mind, trying to get out.

When Tori didn't reply, it felt like everything just kept building. The pressure inside of him was becoming unbearable, and he could feel the knot in his throat was too big to swallow.

Desperately, he tried to push down the desire to cry.

He didn't know why he was feeling this way. He didn't know why this was coming up. His head was starting to hurt as pressure built behind his eyes, and he could feel heat rushing to his face.

He wanted to try to push through it. To push it down again, like he always did. But for some reason, even in the middle of nowhere, in the forest, under the light of waning moon, he felt so alone, and overwhelmed.

He hadn't wanted to get this far. He hadn't wanted to be alive long enough to have to process any of it.

Now it was like he couldn't keep running anymore.

Gritting his teeth, he looked away when he felt his eyes start to sting with the beginnings of tears.

"Damn it," he muttered, barely audible as his fingers dug like claws into his arms, hugging his knees close.

Something inside of him broke the moment he spoke, and before he knew it, tears began to flood his eyes. He ducked his head between his knees and hid his face in his hands, despising the fact that suddenly, everything felt so, so out of control.

He couldn't remember the last time he wept. Not like this.

He couldn't even think a coherent thought. Everything was blending together in a sea of grief. It felt like he was looking out at an ocean, and there was no end to it.

He lost track of how long he cried until he couldn't cry anymore. When his eyes ran dry he was exhausted, and he slumped over, leaning into his knees, too afraid to look up or to say a word.

Tori’s throat cleared, a wet sniff of the nose following just after.

Before long, she finally spoke.

“I’m sure theres a lot on your mind.” She spoke gently, but clearly. “You’ve been through a lot, Tiberius. It’s okay to cry.”

He wished she hadn't said so, because almost instantly, his throat began to choke up again.

"I don't want to," he whispered hoarsely. "...Didn't. Want to."

“I know.” Her voice wavered slightly. “I know it may sound… silly,” she spoke haltingly, “but I’m proud of you letting it out. It’s hard to face it.”

"But that's it," he said weakly. "I... I can't face it."

His voice was rasping, and he curled up even tighter.

"It's overwhelming," he whispered. "It's too much. Even if I told you, you wouldn't be able to handle it. I know, because I can't either. And then you'll feel just as helpless as I do."

He sniffed, and his heart felt heavier than anything else inside of him.

“I’m proud of you facing the tears, is what I meant,” she said, “but I understand.”

A moment of silence began to draw, but Tori cut it short.

“I remember you offered me hugs when I broke down. If there’s anything I can do, be it that or simply some space, I will do it. Even if we can’t handle the facts right now, I’m more than willing to be here for you.”

James didn't know how to answer that. He didn't know what he needed, or what would help. He wished it was that simple. He knew Tori just wanted to feel helpful and useful, but he had nothing to offer to ease her discomfort or his own.

He shook his head behind his hands, sniffing again.

"I can't," he said, voice breaking. "I can't."

“What can’t you do?” she asked.

Desperation began to boil over again, and he finally lifted his head, throwing his hands forward in the air pointedly.

"This!" he said, voice breaking. His vision blurred again, but he had no tears left to cry. "I can't do this again. I can't have someone else getting hurt because of me. I can't -- I can't--"

He buried his head once again in his hands, letting out a pained whimper.

"I don't want anyone to be my hero anymore," he whispered. "Heros always die. I can't let that happen to you too."

“Oh, Tiberius…” Tori sighed sadly. “I’m sitting up,” she said, shifting soon after. “Can I give you a hug?”

The question made him curl up tighter for a moment. Rationally, he knew it didn't make sense to be afraid, but part of him wished he could hide just at the question. Knowing it was impossible to do so, he tried steeling himself, resigning to the only form of comfort anyone seemed to know how to give in moments like this.

Forcing himself to uncurl from his shell, he turned, timidly outstretching his arms while keeping his eyes down, knowing he couldn't dare meet her eyes.

When she hugged him, it was gentle, but firm. Her chin rested delicately on his shoulder. He weakly wrapped his arms around her at first, ashamed of how shaky his hands were, and how palpable every emotion felt just in his physical frame. After a moment of some resistance, he let himself lean into her, resting his forehead against her shoulder with a slump forward.

He had no more energy to cry. He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes, sniffing again as his nose started to run.

"I'm terrified," he said, his throat knotting up again. "But I just want it to be over. I can't do it anymore."

If he had more tears, they would be falling again.

"And I can't take you with me."

Her head softly bumped into his as she held him close.

“I hear you, Tiberius,” Ever so slightly, she rocked him from side to side. “It’s scary, feeling this way. I understand.”

His arms came around her back, and he held her tighter.

Nothing made sense, and he didn't have the strength to fight anymore. He wished so desperately to feel safe again, but even now he was afraid everything would get snatched away in a moment.

After a bout of somber silence, Tori carefully pulled away.

Her hand came into view with what looked like a folded up washcloth. It was clean but well used, thinned beyond anything useful for bathing.

“I don’t have any of those fancy handkerchiefs you carried with you back then,” she said weakly, “but it’ll get the job done, if you need it.”

Not thinking much of it, he took the cloth and shrunk back into himself, wiping and dabbing his eyes. When his face was dry, he blew his still-leaking nose and wadded the cloth up in his hands.

"I can... clean this later," he muttered, turning away.

“That’s fine by me, I’ve got a few others to cycle through.”

“We should… probably head back soon, as much as I don’t want to admit it,” she sighed.

And at that moment, he snapped back to reality, remembering Jeremy was still out there, worried out of his mind.

Muttering a curse under his breath, he wiped his eyes one last time with the back of his hand and got to his feet. The dead leaves and grass crunched under his shoes, and he turned to Tori, shoving the rag in his jacket pocket.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "We should go find Jeremy. We shouldn't be split apart for long. There's still dangers in these woods."

Tori was still sat there on the ground, staring up at him.

“Excluding people, I think most animals tend to stay away from him, thankfully. At least he has that going for him,” she sighed once more, pulling her bag over to fully close it. “I just hope his “friends” show soon so we can stop loitering here.”

James raised his brows briefly at that comment, but merely huffed through his nose.

"We can ride Elliot. We'll find him faster," James said.

With a hum, Tori quietly got to her feet and slung her rifle over her shoulder along with her bag.

“Elliot is going to throw a fit with both of us weighing him down again,” she chuckled, scratching the back of her neck. “I wonder if he remembers those days.”

James glanced back at Elliot, his brows pinning together.

"...Probably not too fondly," James said. "But he still seems fond of you, at least."

“It’s just because I smell like food,” she huffed in amusement. “Let’s go, before I worry Jer more than he already is.”

James nodded, shoving all of his former thoughts aside to thrust himself into the present. He walked over to Elliot, hastily untied his lead from the tree, and jumped up into the saddle. When he looked down, Tori was waiting beside Elliot, looking up at him.

He extended his hand to help her up.

“Thank you.”

She took his hand and effortlessly seated herself behind him.

Turning Elliot around, James began to retrace his steps as much as he could manage. It was still night out.

They didn't travel more than a few feet before Tori started talking.

“Can I make an awful confession?” she asked.

He winced, glancing over his shoulder.

"What a way to start," he said, having a feeling she was going to say whatever she wanted to anyway. She sounded mischievous.

“Listen. I’m getting nostalgic thinking about it,” she said. “It was when I saved you the very first time.”

James frowned, thankful that she couldn't see how his internal groan showed on his face.

"You're getting nostalgic about that?" he asked flatly.

“You ever sat on this saddle backwards?” she chuckled.

James blinked slowly, trying to get ahead of her thoughts to see where she was taking this. Unfortunately, he put two and two together very quickly.

"Not while conscious," he said.

She was thinking back when she'd had to drag him atop of Elliot to get them away. He'd been out of it for most of the time, but he'd later been able to vaguely remember being atop a horse, leaning against someone.

Evidently, she wanted to tease him with this information. Sad for her, he supposed.

“Yeah. Well, I had to bullshit some seating arrangement all because you were handcuffed and were gonna fall off. It was awkward,” she said plainly. “But ‘m mostly gettin nostalgic about your conscious parts of the rides. Even though it was hard on Elliot, I miss the freedom I had then, being able to run with you.”

"That felt like freedom to you?" he asked quietly.

“I could go wherever I wanted to, basically,” she said. “Ignoring the fact that I was wanted, of course. Once I lost Gisa, I was free to lead my own life.”

"What changed?" he asked.

A moment of silence.

“I became a deceitful person, I think,” she said, her voice soft for a moment. “You said you found yourself in Goulon. I got my powers and this damn scar around the same time. It was a short lived adventure, full of many highs and lows. Everyone who knew me then, they all said I became a better person afterward.” She gave a dry huff, but it sounded more like a scoff. “I thought so too at the time.”

“Once everyone split, I found work with the gangs and Jeremy got a job hunting. We could really only see each other a few times during the year, because of the schedules we had and the risks associated with meeting. So I’ve practically been alone since then. I was working with people I didn’t want to, putting up a front as a leader, succumbing to temptations I’d overcome before, and taking jobs I shouldn’t have.”

“Only now that I’m out here running from it all am I reminded how trapped I am here in the Outlands,” she huffed weakly. “This place... it’s a part of me. The furthest out of it I’d ever gotten was that god-awful rescue mission saving you.”

“So to answer your question,” she said bluntly, “nothinghas changed. Running with you was a brief period of freedom that gave me some semblance of a dream in which I could live on my own, follow my own rules, go where I wanted to. Then I ended up here again, like I always do.”

With that, she grew quiet, and James found himself pondering what spurred this path of thought. She had, admittedly, been reflecting on the past, so it was only a natural extension to compare the past to the present. He'd known when they first met that she'd been in a tumultuous time of transition, but what he hadn't know was that Tori had felt trapped in the Outlands ever since. It sounded like, at present, Tori was traveling with Jeremy a bit more begrudgingly than he'd first realized. Even when she talked about his 'friends' and the group they were supposed to join, she never sounded thrilled about the idea.

He wondered if she felt as hopeless as he did about the prospect of security, that it was even a possibility, or that it would even provide the stability she longed for. Or maybe, like him, she wasn't sure if she wanted stability anymore, if only for the fact that it was so foreign.

She didn't seem to have a positive outlook on her personal development either, which was something he could relate to, but didn't want to hone in on.

She'd done things she wished she hadn't. That was enough said. He still wanted to focus on finding Jeremy soon.

"Maybe this could be a chance for a new start, then," he said quietly after a considerable pause passed.

A low-hanging branch reached over them, and he ducked.

"Tree," he said by way of warning.

Tori ducked along with him, the branch passing by.

“I don’t know how I feel about it yet,” she sighed as she sat upright, “but I’m trying not to be pessimistic. It just sounds too good to be true.”

James hummed.

"How so?" he asked, wondering what her thoughts were.

She hummed.

“Well, one thing. Of the mage sympathizers I’ve met in my lifetime, Gisa was one of the very few who did it right, in my eyes. She didn’t expect anything from the people she helped. Anything that came after our assistance was purely of their own choosing,” she said. “I don’t want to be condemned if I don’t meet their standards.”

"You're afraid of owing them something," James said. "Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah."

He hummed.

"Do you think Jeremy is the kind of person to associate himself with people who would demand anything of him?" James asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “I know he wouldn’t see it as demands, at least. He’s the sort of man to understand how hard it is to go out of your way to support mages, so he’d follow through with whatever was asked of him.”

James pursed his lips, looking forward.

"To some degree, doing favors for people who help you is fair," he said. "I guess it just depends how open-handed they are."

Tori simply sighed.

“I’ve gotta stop worrying about it,” she huffed. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

A pause.

James mulled over what else to talk about, but quickly remembered the latest thing he'd learned, apart from some of Tori's history.

"So," he said slowly. "...When did you find out Jeremy was a werewolf?"

There was a moment of silence.

“Where’d you hear that from?” she asked.

"Jeremy," he answered simply.

“It was maybe a few weeks after you left,” she said as she shifted in her seat again.

That made sense, he supposed. He didn't have much commentary on the matter, so he decided to move on.

"And you said you uh, didn't see him often?"

“Unfortunately, I’m not open to the idea of dating at the moment, Mr. Hemming,” she said blandly.

James blinked slowly, his expression falling into a frown of great displeasure.

"Neither am I," he said flatly. "I was just trying to carry a conversation."

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist the temptation,” she snickered to herself, “you heard right, by the way.”

James sighed.

"Right. Well... perhaps we should just sit in silence, now. Until we find him," he said in a low grumble.

She hummed, then went quiet.

James wasn't sure if he'd killed the conversation for the worse, but he decided not to think on it. Navigating in the dark was hard enough, and he was pretty positive he was not going to find the exact spot he left Jeremy at.

Eventually, he came to a stop after he'd traveled for what felt about the same amount of time he'd gone out.

He didn't recognize this patch of forest any more than the next.

Looking up at the sky, he saw nothing but a dark blue.

"Sun should be up soon," he murmured.

When Tori didn't say anything, he glanced over his shoulder.

"What are the odds Jeremy finds us before we find him?" he asked quietly.

Again, Tori didn't say anything. He turned a little more, feeling Tori's weight lean on his back.

Had she fallen asleep?

James stared at her arm, which was all he could make out, and then looked forward, into the forest. Sighing, he turned back again, gently tapping her shoulder.

"Tori," he said steadily. "I can't have you falling off the horse."

“Sorry,” she slurred, her weight slowly lifting from his back. “I’m awake now. What’s happening?”

"Nothing," he said. "I'm lost."

She groaned quietly.

“Right. You’re lost.” she sighed to herself. “Well, if you went the general direction you came, Jeremy should find us before long.”

She paused, reaching an arm up and out. As she did, a gentle breeze passed by. Her arm lowered, tucking back into the space between them.

“If the wind isn’t throwing him off, that is,” she said weakly. “I think I remember he said something about his range being a mile or so for smell.”

"Wonder how he figured that out," James mumbled, more to himself. "Let's hop off and give Elliot a break while we wait."

Wordlessly, Tori slid off the saddle from behind him and landed in the leaves with a solid crunch.

"My first order of business," Tori started up, unprompted, "once we're out of here, I'm finding him and Bren some good food."

"You won't find a hay bale in a forest," he said dryly, hopping down on the ground beside her.

“That’s why I said once we’re out of here,” she clarified. "Unless you’re going solo before then. In which case, I guess you two can just starve.”

She patted Elliot, then leaned over onto him.

“I’m so sorry buddy,” she said, perfectly audible. “They need to add on ‘starves his babied horse half to death’ to the list, don’t they?”

Elliot, not one to skip out on attention, immideately turned his head towards her, looking for pets.

"Wow," James said slowly, even though she had no idea how much that stung. "And they should put 'abandons her partner in the middle of the night' on yours."

Tori was already petting Elliot, but her head visibly tilted James’s way.

“Nice try,” she snorted. “Should be something more like ‘pain in the ass when you try to help her’ or ‘will run unprompted if you try to be nice to her.’”

James huffed through his nose.

"I personally think my poster should say 'stop catching him while shitting, it's just unfair,'" he said, putting a hand on his hip.

Tori stifled a laugh.

“Maybe,” she started, voice wavering, “you should go take a shit so Jeremy finds us faster.” She stifled another laugh, but this time into Elliot’s neck. “Isn’t that right, Elliot?”

“I am right here,” Jeremy announced from behind James and Tori both. “No need to shit yourselves.”

James jumped out of his skin as he whipped around, completely unaware that Jeremy had snuck up on them.

Tensing up entirely, James stared at Jeremy's shadow, with Brenna looming behind him.

“I didn’t even hear you or Bren,” Tori huffed from James’s side. “Damn.”

“That’s what happens,” Jeremy said coolly, but he never finished with any snide remarks. “You two made it practically all the way back. I’m surprised.”

James blinked.

"So am I," he said.

Jeremy simply let out a long and deep sigh.

“Have you had your fill of alone time, Tori?” Jeremy asked, dropping the sense of humor.

There was a moment of silence before Tori ever responded to his question. When she did, it was little more than an exasperated huff.

“I’m fine now,” she said quietly. “We talked a bit before we started our way back.”

“Don’t do that again,” Jeremy said as him and Brenna came up beside the two of them. “And don’t get any ideas from her,” he said pointedly to James.

James bristled at the comment, but he bit his tongue. He noticed Tori, too, was more subdued in response. It seemed she wasn't proud of having to face him, now, even after she'd seemed aloof about it earlier.

So she was ashamed after all.

“Let’s get going then. I have a bad gut feeling about this place.” Jeremy let out another mournful sigh, starting off with Brenna into the trees.

Tori silently shifted out of the way, bringing Elliot's pets to a halt so that James could access his saddle.

"Agreed," James said quietly. He mounted up quickly, ready to follow Jeremy's lead, and Tori got on Brenna moments after.

No one seemed chatty once they were all reunited, so James and Tori ended up following Jeremy in silence. They found themselves, eventually, further ahead in the forest. James could finally see their surroundings as the sun came up and illuminated the trees overhead. When he glanced over his shoulder, he could finally make out more of Tori's countenance, and it wasn't very encouraging.

Sitting in Brenna's saddle, Tori slouched forward, her eyes downcast, and her lips drawn in a frown.

Were she a child, James would say she was pouting. But he wanted to think of her with at least some dignity, so he decided to file it under: disparaged.

The morning went by slowly, and few words were exchanged as the three of them traveled. According to what James heard last, they were not far far from their meeting point, but they were at least a week late from when they were supposed to be there, no thanks to him.

He just hoped they found Jeremy's friends instead of something or someone else.

The three of them finally made it to the meeting point.

Tori was a little disappointed to find that it was just a large boulder. Jeremy said it resembled a ship, but she couldn’t really see it. It was simply a big, boring rock. The child inside of her desperately wanted to climb to the top of it, but after the long day, she was exhausted.

Admitting defeat, she found her blanket and got herself situated for rest.

Drowsiness finally came easy to her, now that she’d talked with Tiberius the night before. While she wasn’t at all happy to see him so upset, she was thankful to see him offloading some of the grief and emotional weight he’d been carrying. It was too easy to let feelings like that boil yourself away.

She knew from personal experience that letting emotions fester under such high stress was how you ended up seriously injured.

Part of her hoped that he’d stay for at least a little while. She had a feeling that he was of the same mind as her, not wanting to feel obligated to join a group for fear of being trapped there. If she were in his position, running from the Suns, she’d be entirely against the idea herself.

Maybe he was just appeasing her by staying. Maybe he wasn’t. She didn’t know. But at least she could keep a gentle eye on him, give him some sense of hope, even if it was just that a shoulder to cry on existed in this cruel world.

Tori let her eyes close, resting her head on the hard ground below. Slowly, the worry began to fade along with the tension behind her eyes.

Some time later, Jeremy woke her for her watch. His goodnight wish was a bit more subdued, but she couldn’t expect him to feel too cheery at the moment.

They were in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a group of mage sympathizers, hiding from bounty hunters and the law. All in the Outlands, no less.

It was pathetic, really.

She watched Jeremy’s shadow start to blend into the forest floor as he slept. Soon, she found herself thinking on what to do.

It was only a matter of time before someone found them, or something happened. They were running low on food, too. Eventually they’d have to venture out of the forest to get supplies.

If she were a bounty hunter, she’d wait it out. Have people around the perimeter, always watching. It was a huge area, but if you knew your way around, you could easily track someone down. That, or with enough people, close in on them and strangle them in the middle.

She was being pessimistic again.

With a deep internal sigh, she pinched her eyes shut for a moment, willing herself back into a more optimistic state of mind.

They would be ok.

Jeremy said this “group” was capable. Surely they were capable fighters, for Jeremy to trust them so well. Surely there were more than a few people there, to bolster their numbers if they were attacked.

She blinked hard, looking up to the sky, focusing on some vaguely familiar constellations. While the insects were singing, an occasional breeze rattled free the leaves of the trees just enough that it sounded like a hard rain.

A branch would snap, here and there. It sounded like it wasn’t from above, but it was hard to tell.

She forced herself to breathe.

They were vulnerable here, she knew that much. Something about how quiet it had been for the last week bothered her. She had a feeling that whoever was after Tiberius, they wouldn’t have let this much time pass.

Her rifle sat patiently in her lap. Running her fingers gently along the barrel, Tori simply listened. Waiting for anything abnormal.

The wind picked up, and she found herself listening to the rain of leaves again.

There was a strange, sickly-sweet smell on the breeze. Her eyes shot open when it clicked.

Lumshade.

“Gas!” she yelled, covering her nose and mouth swiftly after.

She couldn’t risk breathing it in. It only took a breath or two before you fell to it.

Resisting the urge to swear, she was on her feet in a matter of seconds, rushing for Jeremy and Tiberius. Jeremy was closest, already trying to get up, but Tiberius looked like he was having a harder time. He was propped up on his elbows, but even in the dark she could see him shaking.

Damn it all.

She wouldn’t be able to get them all out in time. Tiberius was going to fall. Jeremy wasn’t getting to his feet fast enough. The horses had likely been hit with the lumshade as well. There wasn’t any sign of the raiders.

There was nothing to work with.

She swung around, searching her immediate surroundings.

The moment she saw a person moving through the shadows, something pierced her side.

Not even bothering to see who it was, she bolted for the massive boulder, lurching herself forward just in time to feel something whiz past her.

Just before she could duck behind cover, an arrow lodged right between her shoulder blades, burying itself next to her spine.

With a sharp cry, she fell to her hands and knees. She forced herself back up, her back and chest screaming in agony.

Before she could even recover from the fall, she heard footsteps rushing up to her. When she looked up, she saw a tall, lean figure towering over her with a mace in hand, and a dark hood and mask covering their face.

They swiftly swung downwards.

She jolted to the side, narrowly dodging.

Dirt flew as the mace hit the ground heavily and came back with and up-swing, aimed at her head.

Still subject to the momentum, she stumbled backwards. The mace flew past as Tori fell.

The arrow lodged in her back shattered under her weight, and she felt the tip drive deeper. She screamed in blinding pain, but no sound came out. Her body began to lock up on her.

It was then that a crushing weight slammed into her chest, and suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

No, no, no.

Her voice cracked as she rolled over to her hands and knees. She was going to get hit again, she couldn’t run in this condition.

The mace withdrew, but it lifted again.

Whoever this was, they definitely wanted her dead. Unfortunately, she never went down without a fight.

She lunged for them, managing to grab onto a leg. It threw them off balace just enough that their mace wobbled to the side as they steadied their feet.

With all the strength she could muster, she reached out with her powers, pulling her attacker's energy toward her.

At first, her touch was cold upon contact, and she could feel the pain of death in her own body creeping at her fingertips. When she sensed the life in the other person's physical frame, she clung to it like a life-boat, forcing herself in. The flesh under the clothes of the leg under her hands quivered as energy rushed into her like a high. The pain in her chest that formerly radiated dulled, and ribs cracked and popped back into place, reforming inside of her.

She could breathe again, but it wasn't until she could that she registered the person's blood-curdling scream as their body convulsed from the pain, and their legs buckled.

They collapsed to the ground.

"Mage!" they screamed in a feminine voice that sounded tight with tears. "There's a mage!"

Tori’s eyes widened in horror. Using the newfound high to her advantage, she scrambled to her feet and ran straight into the woods, crashing through the brush.

She could hear what sounded like dozens of footsteps scrambling behind her in her wake, but she didn't look back. She could hear some of them dart off in pursuit, stomping behind her.

So she ran.

She ran and ran until finally, she felt her legs beginning to give way beneath her. Her boot caught on a tree root, and she landed on her hands, dirt and rock sinking into her palms.

With whine, she struggled to her feet, realizing there wasn’t a sound to be heard around her. All she could hear was her raspy panting and heaving, and the deathly silence of the forest.

Her legs gave way, knees slamming into the ground below. She winced.

Resting a hand on her side, she felt for the shaft of the arrow. She had to take care of this, along with the other one in her back.

Her fingertips met with the arrow, blood oozing from the edges, soaking her hand. She reached with her other hand behind her, resting her palm on the thick and knotty bark of a fir. Pulling at the tree, she felt the high wash over her again as the skin pulled back together from the inside, forcing the arrowhead out.

The arrow fell free, landing in the dead leaves to her side.

With an anxiety-ridden breath, she lifted her hand from her side, carefully reaching behind her head for the second arrow. The shaft had split to pieces, driven into her back like needles. Her hand rested over top, feeling the sharpness of each of the points in her palm.

She wasn’t going to last. Not because she’d bleed out, but because she felt the high beginning to wax, overpowering her. The anxiety she felt from the rush was just a warning sign, telling her not to continue. Telling her to turn back, for fear of what was to come.

There was no ignoring it.

Her eyes squeezed shut, and she tugged at the tree once more.

The wood fell free, then the remainder of the shaft and arrowhead fell out, landing in the leaves with a gentle thud.

She shifted backward, pressing her spine to the tree. The bark beneath her hand didn’t feel much like bark anymore.

Her mind was glazing over. The dread she felt from pulling from nature began to fade. It was leaving her empty and helpless, subject to the ecstasy of how good this felt.

A heavy sigh of relief involuntarily left her lungs.

The pain in her body and bones had disappeared altogether.

She was still pulling from the tree.

In a moment of sudden clarity, her free hand reached for her bag, reaching for her lumshade, tucked safely away.

It was… happening again. She had to quell it, before she… before she lost herself. Before she couldn’t think anymore, she needed to end it.

The vial wasn’t there, or maybe she couldn’t reach it. She strained again, her fingertips searching nearby.

“Please,” she begged softly, breaking into a weak laugh. “I can’t do this again.”

Her body felt so, so heavy. It was crushing her, pulling her into the dirt, into the tree. Tilting her head back, she stared up at the sky, her thoughts finally coming to a gentle stop, leaving her floating, drifting.

She lost track of time, getting lost in the stars. She didn't know how much time had passed, or just how much she was losing herself, or if she could stop it.

Then there was a push.

It wasn't physical contact, but something very tangibly washed over her, like a wave of heat and wamrth. It was overwhelming and peaceful all at the same time, like a forceful calm came raging against her own magic, not just resisting it, but overpowering it.

A hand touched hers. She hadn't realized she'd still been clutching her chest. Fingers gingerly pried hers away from clawing into her own skin, and there was a warmth that flooded her body at the touch, quelling the storm. It was like the blanket of dread had been ripped off of her, and all she was left with was herself.

Her eyes came into focus, drifting away from the sky to a face right in front of her. A woman, eyes soft and filled with concern, but a sternness set in her jaw.

The woman's hands were on Tori's shoulders.

"There's no need for this now," she said, her hands alight, grabbing Tori's hands to hold them, setting them in Tori's lap. "You've recovered. The danger is gone. Take a moment to breathe, now."

As Tori began to do just so, her eyelids grew heavy, along with her body. With a weak groan, she fell forward, the world growing dark.

He should've known. He should've known.

Consciousness came with the same kindness it always did: with that of a roaring wave, tossing him to shore. Before he opened his eyes, he could feel the rigidity of his own frame, bound by his hands and feet, gagged, and upright against a hard surface. Probably a tree.

Slowly, he pried his eyes open, feeling the sluggish lethargy that always lingered when lumshade was still leaving his system. There was a crick in his neck, and he realized his head had been craned to the side while he was unconscious, leaving an ache in his spine and shoulders along with a headache. Though that was probably from the lumshade, too.

They were still in the forest, but it looked thicker. They'd backtracked, then. Southward. Further into the Outlands. They couldn't have gone too far, but they'd probably traveled all day, or for a few hours straight.

Trying to right his neck subtly, James turned his gaze around the camp, noting the ten or so men and women sitting and walking around - some around a dead campfire, some at the fringes of the camp, and two outside of a small tent.

Someone he didn't see, however, was Jeremy.

Alerted, he sat up a little straighter, heartrate rising. He didn't know where Tori was either. Or Elliot, or Brenna. The last thing he remembered was seeing smoke, hearing people rush towards him, and collapsing onto the forest floor moments later. Jeremy had been a few feet from him at the time. Tori had been on watch. He barely remembered hearing her voice before everything got muddled, and he couldn't help but feel the weight of dread.

Had Tori and Jeremy been killed? Were they left for dead while he'd been taken?

Heavy as he leaned against the tree behind him, he tried to take in steady breaths, keeping himself back from a panic.

He could still get out of this. He wasn't at Dagger's Heart yet. They were still on the road. He just had to wait for a moment to get the upper hand and then he could make a run for it. Maybe he'd get shot in the process, but anything was better than having to face Rita again, especially after everything that happened. He didn't want to think about what she'd do, or if she'd even hear his side of the story, or if she'd only pretend to care and use it against him. He didn't want to go back.

He couldn't. He wouldn't. He had to die out here, escape, or... he didn't know.

He'd find a way.

Already scanning the camp to try to pick out any weak links, he found himself squinting in the darkness, unable to recognize anyone, as most of them were facing away or shadowed. A few of them were having a conversation, and he could hear the clinking of spoon against bowls. They were still eating dinner. It was probably still early evening. The sun was just down.

All chatter came to a stop, though, when someone called out: "Hey, Ramona, look who's up."

The flap of the tent flew back like a cape in the wind, and the moment the woman stepped out, James felt all of the fight left in his body flee.

Ramona was the last person he wanted to see. Next to Rita.

Her head turned to him, and though he couldn't make out her features, he didn't have to.

He already knew her face. Her short-cropped fiery red hair, the freckles, the strong arch of her nose, and the carefree spirit. But the latter had dulled after Ron died. And he could only imagine how that grief had turned to rage after she learned he'd killed Hoss.

Of course Rita sent her after him. No one else would be as hellbent to catch him.

"Missed the lumshade, didn't you?" Ramona's voice lilted as she stalked over to him.

Gagged and unable to respond even if he wanted to, James could only watch as she made her approach. She stopped short a mere foot from him, towering over him and casting him in her shadow. Hands set on her hips, she looked down at him, silent.

James could sense the whole camp holding their breath.

Ramona slowly squatted down in front of him, stopping once they were eye level. Now that she was closer, he could see the angle of her brows and the intensity of her stare, fixed on him. Were she any more transparent, she'd have been snarling.

"The only reason you're not dead in a ditch right now," Ramona hissed quietly. "Is because Rita wants you alive."

She tilted her head to the side, like she was examing him for a reaction. He sat frozen still, swallowing.

"But I promise you," she said. "When she looses my leash, I will show no mercy. You're a bastard, and you deserve to die like one. Unlike my brothers."

Gritting her teeth, her hand shot forward and she wrapped it around his neck, digging her fingers into his trachea. With her other hand she ripped at the gag in his mouth, pulling it down his chin.

"Now go on," she said, releasing her pressure off of his throat. "Say sorry. I know you want to."

Feeling the eyes of everyone watching, James shrunk back into the tree, if he possibly could any further. Ramona's hand still held pressure over his neck like a threat, and even with the gag gone, his breaths felt shallow.

He didn't want to waste his breath, but he didn't know... no. He had to play by the rules for now.

He swallowed weakly, his throat tight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered out, wincing when Ramona's grasp tightened once more to choke it out.

"Sorry?!" she leaned in. "Is that what you told Hoss after you shoved a gun into his gut? I don't think you meant it that time. Why don't you try again?"

She let go again, but didn't draw away. He knew no matter what he said, it'd egg her on.

"I didn't mean--" was all he got out before she violently shoved the gag back in his mouth, tightening it from behind so it pulled at the edges of his mouth. He nearly choked on it, but swallowed the reflex down as Ramona brought her face inches from his.

"Lots of people don't mean it," Ramona whispered harshly. "No one ever means it. That's what makes it all the worse. I wish you'd meant it. Then at least you could be a man and own it. Instead, you're going to spend the rest of your life thinking you're the victim, and you were just forced to."

Pulling away, she got to her feet abruptly.

"Well boo-hoo, Tiberius," she said. "Keep lying to yourself that you're some kind of hero. You lie to everyone, it only makes sense you'd lie to yourself too."

Backing away while still facing him, she stopped just behind the tent she'd come out of.

"Let's see if your friend lies at much as you do," she said. "Or is he the painfully honest type under pressure? I'd sure like to find out."

She reached into the tent with both arms, dragging a man across the ground. Very quickly, James realized he was staring at Jeremy, back turned to him.

Unconscious.

Ramona kicked Jeremy in the gut with the full force of her boot. Jeremy didn't respond, so Ramona kicked again. And again. And again.

Finally, Jeremy let out a groan.

"Wake up, sunshine," Ramona said flatly, sounding fed up already. "Or you'll join the dead sooner than the living."

Jeremy faintly shuddered, but he didn't say a word. James could only assume he was awake when Ramona leaned down and squatted beside him. It looked like Jeremy's hands and feet were bound as well.

"Here's how this is going to work, sunshine," Ramona said. "I ask a question, you give an answer. If you don't give an answer or give an answer I don't like, we're going to make life harder for you. Is that clear?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Good," Ramona said. James could only assume Jeremy gave some kind of sign of assent.

"Let's start simple," Ramona said. "What's your name?"

“Jeremy,” he let out quietly, but his voice was heavy enough it carried.

"Good. What's that man's name, over there?" she asked, pointing over his head.

His figure shifted slightly, his face coming into view as he lifted his head to look over his shoulder, expressionless. His head laid back down slowly.

“Tiberius Hemming."

"Oh, so you know his real name?" Ramona said with a smile in her voice. "You two must be close, then. So how'd you end up with the world's most wanted criminal, hm?"

There was a long pause. Ramona seemed to be waiting patiently. At first.

"Too hard of a question?" she mocked. "Need some help remembering?"

She sent a punch into his gut.

"Think faster," she said lowly.

“I found ‘im out here and felt bad,” he said plainly.

"Uh huh," Ramona said. "You took pity on him. How generous."

She tilted her head to the side.

"What about the woman who was with you?" she asked.

Silence.

"Give a name," Ramona said as a threat.

“She never told us,” he huffed.

Ramona laughed dryly, and then she got to her feet. This time, she kicked him in the chest.

"So you do lie like your pitiful friend," Ramona said. "Let's try something different, then shall we? Since you're not motivated by your own pain..."

She motioned to two of the others, and two burly men came over, picking Jeremy up like he weighed nothing. Each holding one arm, they turned him around, dragging him towards James as Ramona led the way.

James already knew what was coming. Ramona was using emotional leverage. She was going to make him suffer in front of Jeremy to manipulate him - because truth be told, torture was never very effective. But torture on someone people cared about... well, that had a higher success rate.

Steeling himself, he watched as the two men sat Jeremy a few feet in front of him, still holding him in place, where he'd be forced to watch.

James briefly looked over at Jeremy, but he couldn't hold his gaze.

He had a feeling Jeremy didn't know what happened to Tori either, but it was clear that if Ramona was asking about her, she'd gotten away. Maybe that meant there was a chance she was okay.

He knew Jeremy didn't want to put her in danger, and neither did he.

Ramona knelt down beside James, giving Jeremy a pointed look. Flipping out a knife, she tilted her head again.

"Let's try that again. What's her name?"

“Tori.”

"Did you know that she was a healing mage?" Ramona asked.

Jeremys eyes narrowed, shifting from the distance behind James to Ramona.

“If she was, she never told me,” he spoke gently.

Ramona reached out and pressed her knife lightly into James's neck.

"Who are you to her then?" Ramona asked.

“Just a friend, she’d tell you herself.”

Ramona smirked. "You know, I'd like her to."

She sent James a quick glance that he didn't catch, but he had a feeling Ramona was trying to lead up to something. He already knew it wouldn't end well.

"Was anyone else traveling with you?" she asked, looking to Jeremy again.

“No,” he said, sighing visibly.

"Then what were you looking for?" Ramona asked, pressing the knife a little deeper into James's neck.

“I was trying to find our way out of this place via the larger landmarks I knew of,” he said under his breath.

"So what I'm hearing is," Ramona said slowly. "There shouldn't be anyone following us? No surprises later?"

“The only one I know who would follow us is Tori,” he huffed. “No one else.”

"You think so?" Ramona said with a grin. "Because I really can't wait to see her again."

Jeremy’s gaze sunk lower.

“You want some honesty?” he asked, eyes flicking her way.

"I'd love some," she said, challenging his gaze.

“She’d never befriend a bitch like you,” he said, staring her down.

Ramona dug the knife into James's neck just enough to break the skin. He stiffened, holding still to keep from reacting and making it worse.

"I guess you never knew her like I did," Ramona said with a mocking, wistful sigh.

Jeremy’s gaze was unchanged as he remained silent.

There was a prolonged silence as he and Ramona merely stared at each other, and James found himself merely waiting, the knife still pressed into his neck, drawing blood.

"Well, you've been about as useful as a wet sock," she said flatly. "One last question and you tell me what would prefer. Would you rather stay up and watch your friend get tortured, or would you rather we put you out for the rest of it?"

Jeremy faltered briefly.

“I’ll stay,” he said firmly. “It’s my fault leading us into this mess anyway.”

Ramona raised a brow but only nodded.

Then she turned her attention to James.

Cool, damp air washed over her face, mixing with the stinging sensation in the back of her eyes.

She could feel her body again.

An exhale. Her body was… heavy, but not unnaturally so. Quite a few places ached, particularly her back. For the most part, she was alive.

Her forehead felt like someone had stuck their hand inside and dug her brains out. She couldn’t tell if it was a headache or not.

Who had saved her? All she could remember…

The weight across her chest suddenly felt so much heavier as she pushed the recent memories aside. This wasn’t the time nor the place to grieve.

Her arms were at her side. She let her fingertips carefully graze the material on top of her. It was a blanket, she could tell, thick enough to block the frigid air, and wooly in texture. She was on top of one too.

Resisting the urge to open her eyes, she simply laid there and listened intently, trying to stay calm.

A gentle light passed through her eyelids, reminiscent of dawn. A breeze rustled the same leaves that she had been listening to last night. Assuming it was last night, anyway. She wasn’t sure how long it had been.

There was a faint, familiar sound of cards slipping against each other. A huff from a horse, maybe two.

She peeked an eye open, looking to her side through her eyelashes, making sure not to move a muscle.

Two people were facing each other on a blanket, playing what looked like a card game. One of the figures was quite large in comparison to the other. A small wolf or dog-like animal sat behind the larger individual.

She accidentally made eye contact with it.

Her eye shut.

Well, if the dog came for her, so be it.

At least these people didn’t look dangerous. She wasn’t bound or injured, so she started to assume another group found her. Hopefully not more bounty hunters. Maybe it was the group they’d been looking for.

She opened her eyes, staring into the clear morning sky. It was still dawn. Slowly but steadily, she sat up, the blanket shifting into her lap. Her bag was at her side.

Her gaze shifted to her side again, now that she could see better.

The dog was a small, dark brown wolf, and of course it was still staring at her.

The moment she locked eyes with it again, it let out a low growl.

"I didn't fart," the large man muttered idly.

Then the wolf barked, harsh and grating. Her shoulders tensed up at the sound.

That made the large man turn his head, and turn around, revealing a giant trio of scars across one side of his face in place of a missing eye. She couldn’t hide the instinctive shock that flashed in her eyes. Stifling the fear that had come over her, she started to register his appearance.

He was tan, with short brown hair that looked like it’d been razored down, and a full beard. He looked like he hadn’t seen a proper week of sleep in a while, but he seemed alert.

Behind him leaned out the face of a woman whose eyes regarded her with concern.

Tori’s eyes widened. She’d seen this same gaze before, after her magic calmed. Another healer, like herself. She was smaller than the man was, but looked to be around her own size. Her short, finely coiled hair appeared to have been bleached from the natural dark brown that complemented her skin tone. It looked like she had two piercings between her brows.

“You…" She sounded dumb and had to restart. "You’re the one who saved me,” Tori said gently, meeting eyes with her.

The woman's gaze softened.

"Yes," she said. "You were in quite the state when we found you. How are you feeling?"

Tori let herself think for a moment as she felt out her body again. As she did, her gaze drifted to the wolf. She wondered if it ever blinked, or if it had anything better to stare at.

“Alright, I suppose,” Tori said, staring down the animal. She scowled at the wolf, flashing her eyes, then looked back to the woman. “I usually… pace myself much better.” She paused. “I didn’t really have the option to, though. Thank you,” she said, looking to her lap.

“Are you…” Tori whispered to herself, drifting off. Her shoulders sank a bit as she stared into the fabric of the blanket. Changing her mind on how best to approach this, she lifted her eyes. “Was there anyone else you two found?”

The woman and the large man exchanged a quick glance.

"How many people were you--" the woman started to ask.

"Where's Jeremy?" the wolf barked, growling again.

Her heart nearly stopped.

Forcing a hard blink, she stared the wolf down again. Interesting. She supposed it made sense that there was a werewolf here, what with Jeremy being one. Perhaps it was how he initially met this group.

“That’s what I was going to ask you once I knew you were friendlies or not,” she said hesitantly.

"We're friendly," the one-eyed man said, but then glanced down at the wolf. Or... werewolf.

"Mostly," he added. "You were traveling with Jeremy, weren't you?"

“I was,” Tori emphasized. “That is, until we got raided. I don’t know where he is.”

The wolf growled again, but the large man seemed to be ingoring him.

"My name's Bo," he said. "The angry one is Robin. And the one who helped bring you back is Mel."

He gestured back to the woman, who'd started shuffling the cards from their game.

"I believe Jeremy told you a little bit about us," he said. "So hopefully you at least recognize our names."

Tori looked between them all.

This time, the pessimism was entirely warranted. Three people, assuming the werewolf would accept that description of themselves. She felt her chest knotting up already. Was this… it? Surely, surely there were more than just this. If there wasn’t, it was unlikely that Jeremy and Tiberius were being saved. While she was running, she knew there were at least a half dozen other people after her, likely more. Bo was massive, but size alone wouldn't help.

Jeremy was a loner like herself. He was when they last adventured together, rather. That was nearly four years ago after Tiberius had left. Maybe Jeremy had changed, but she couldn’t see him justifying working with anyone unless they were capable, like he’d said before. Perhaps this group’s wits outweighed their numbers.

“Right,” she mumbled to herself. “I do recall him mentioning your names. He didn’t provide a whole lot else.”

"I'm sorry we missed you," Bo said, lowering his voice a little. "When you two didn't show up we got worried and started searching, but it appears we went the wrong direction."

"We'd like to help you find him," the woman - Mel - said. "But we'll need to know whatever you can tell us about what happened. Is that something you're up for?"

Tori attempted to relax the muscles in her brow. Scowling wasn’t helping her head feel any better, but it wasn’t something she had any conscious control over. Unfortunately, first impressions were usually that she was quiet and callous. She hoped that wasn’t the case right now, but she had a feeling it was written all over her.

She forced herself out of her thoughts, taking a breath and brushing her bangs out of her eyes with a hand.

“Right,” she said again slowly. “I can do that.”

Mel and Bo exchanged a quick glance, and Bo nodded.

"If you're up for it," he added.

It took a moment for her to power through the overall ache and haze looming in her body, but eventually she got herself moving. She pulled the blanket up and around herself, then carefully scooted over to where Bo and Mel were seated.

Robin didn’t seem to like her, given the staring and immediate questioning, but it sounded like more of a personal problem than anything she’d done. He was still watching her from behind Bo as she settled down closer to the three of them. “Mostly” friendly sounded like an overstatement.

Judging by how quickly he’d asked about Jeremy, she could only assume that the two had some sort of mutual understanding established. He was probably concerned, just as much as she was.

Her attention shifted to her side.

It was uncomfortable how much Bo seemed to loom. She felt very, very small in comparison. From what she could tell, he appeared well built. The size of his arms and muscles she could see in his shoulders and neck reminded her of Gisa’s build, who she knew worked out daily with a great pride.

Tori rested her face in her hand, leaning over and massaging her temples between her thumb and index finger.

She grew quiet for some time. Her hand slid down her face with a long sigh before she sat up straighter, trying to bolster her confidence and press through the fog. Her mind still felt like mush. It was taking time for the haze to clear from her sleep, and her body was whiplashed from her powers spiraling out of control.

“Toriko,” she turned and extended a stiff hand to him, “I go by Tori though. It’s good to finally meet you, Bo.”

Bo's expression warmed almost immediately, and a kindness shone in his eyes as he smiled and took her hand. He shook it firmly, but gently. He probably could crush her hand if he wanted, yet he held it like someone who actually knew his own strength.

Pulling away after two simple shakes, Bo set his hands in his lap.

"Nice to meet you, Tori," he said. "Jeremy's told us a little bit about you too. It's good to meet you in person."

She passed a closed smile and nodded, then turned to Mel.

“Thank you again,” she said, hand out for another shake. “I don’t think I would’ve come back from that, had you not stepped in.”

"I'm glad we were able to help," she said gently, taking her hand. Unlike Bo, Mel held Tori's hand almost daintily, but instead of giving her a handshake, sandwiched Tori's hands between both of her own.

"And I'm glad to see you're okay," she said, pulling away.

“Yeah… I am too,” she sighed.

Passing a glance toward Robin, they met eyes again. She wasn’t quite sure he was an introduction sort of individual, so she simply squinted.

She drew her attention back to Bo and Mel.

“I’m not sure where to start,” she huffed to herself.

"Well, you got separated, I'm assuming," Mel said. "Let's start there. What was the first sign of danger you can recall?"

Tori let her gaze drift to the blanket they sat on, staring deeply into the fabric.

“Coroner’s smoke,” she said faintly. “Lumshade. I recognized it in time, but I don’t think Jeremy did. I couldn’t get to him before I was loaded full of arrows and driven away, as you might’ve seen.”

"...When we found you, the arrows had been pushed out, already," Mel said softly.

"But if it was coroner's smoke," Bo said. "Then it might've been mage hunters who attacked you. Do you know anything about the group that found you?"

“There was…” she began slowly, mulling through her memories, “…a hooded, masked woman with a mace. She was tall and slender. I couldn’t get a good look at the archer, but they were a good shot. Including those two, it felt like a dozen people, give or take. Some looked burly.”

She looked up, feeling the tension growing in her chest as she scanned the trees around them.

"I don't think they were mage hunters," she said, looking back to Bo to make brief eye contact. "The mace-wielder gave the impression that she was uninformed. I don't think they expected me there, so I can only assume they were looking for someone else.”

She swallowed, debating on how much she should unveil. The story wouldn’t make sense without Tiberius involved, but… Tiberius. How was she going to do this?

“I—“ she started, voice weak.

She cleared her throat and restarted.

“It was my fault we were late,” she said firmly, looking to her lap. Her index finger traced across the tattoos on her other hand. “We stumbled across an old friend of mine—someone else that’s wanted. He was wounded such that we couldn’t risk moving him until I had helped him heal." She paused for a moment. "I think they were looking for him.”

"So there were three of you," Mel said, like she was trying to follow.

“Yes,” Tori nodded, “three. No more though.”

With a wearied sigh, she sat up straight again, fixing her recurring slouch. It was probably the comfort of the blanket though, trying to lull her back to sleep. Now was not the time, so she pulled it off her shoulders and bunched it up in her lap to keep her legs warm.

"Well, I'm sure you must be exhausted," Mel said. "But also very worried. We want to find Jeremy and your friend as soon as possible, and I'm sure you want to as well. Would you allow some of us to join you to make sure the three of you come back safely to us?"

Tori looked up to meet her gaze, coming to a pause in her ruminating.

“Accepted,” Tori gave a pathetic closed-lipped smile that soon faded. “I know I wouldn’t be able to do it alone. I appreciate any help you have to offer.” Her eyes fell to her hands again. “I know you’ve already gone so far out of your way to meet us out here,” she said faintly.

"Hey, just so you know," Bo said, leaning towards her slightly, like he was whispering to her as an aside, despite speaking at a pretty normal volume. She raised a brow as she eyeballed him. "This is totally normal for us and not a burden at all. I love doing this sort of thing. Just so you know where we're coming from. The gratitude's appreciated, but also know we're very happy to help too."

At that, the man suddenly slapped his thighs and got to his feet with a small sigh. She simply watched him, a bit intrigued.

"Robin and I will go with you," he said with a small nod. "We should head out soon. Time's-a-wasting."

"But I'm going to insist that you eat something first," Mel said. "Overexerting your magic like that takes a toll on your body. You need to take care of yourself."

Bo pointed to Mel with a small grin and looked to Tori with his eyebrows raised.

"Doctor's orders," he said.

With a loud huff, Robin got to his feet and began to walk away behind them without a word.

“Got it,” Tori nodded, watching Robin drift away. He seemed upset, but she couldn’t blame him for it. She was upset too, just… too tired to process it just yet. “Throw whatever you’ve got at me. I’ll gladly take it,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Bo was already moving. She hadn't quite registered the existence of their horses until he walked up to a very large shire horse, rivaling Bo in size and strength. It was a reddish brown, and its mane was a dusty ivory, matching the stripe down its face. It turned to look at him, nuzzling his shoulder as he dug in his saddlebag.

Bo patted the horse's nose as he pulled out a bag with one hand.

Twirling around with a small skip in his step, he returned back to the blanket, sitting down near Tori.

She caught one last glance at the other horses, noting there were two more. One was wholly black and dark as night, and the other was pale with grey speckles.

She didn't see Brenna or Elliot.

"While you were cat-napping," Bo said. "I made bacon. Don't ask me where I got the--"

"Flying pig," Robin muttered just loud enough to hear, hidden somewhere behind the bushes.

"Listen, flying pig meat is just as good as walking pig meat," Bo said to the bush.

"That's a regular pig," the bush replied.

"Anyways," Bo said with a dismissive wave in Robin's direction. He reached into his small bag and pulled out a handful of fried strips of meat, offering them to Tori.

"Eat," he said.

Taking all of it in hand, Tori let her eyes close for a moment in resignation as she started filling her mouth with meat as much as she could manage.

Something told her that this man was going to be obnoxious. In a good way of course, like her old friend Dustin was. He always had to find a reason to rope himself into her problems and assist her. Ultimately they became good friends, but he’d gotten himself busy shortly after they met, working too close to the kingdom for her comfort.

The brief lapse in chaos was reminiscent of her adventuring with him. She missed those days, as low as she felt during them.

“Good stuff,” she mumbled through the bacon finally, having swallowed enough of it to speak. “I don’t care if it flies or not. It’s edible, that’s all that matters.”

She turned to the bush, then back to Bo with a curious eye, analyzing his scars as she chewed. Swallowing more down, only to replace it with more from her hand, she squinted.

“So how’d you all meet him? Jeremy,” she said carefully. “I know he worked hunting with some folks further out, but he had to have run into you somehow. Maybe he smelled bacon from a mile away and came running," she thought aloud, resting her chin in her hand.

"Oh," Bo said with a small grin. "We helped him out of some trouble, not unlike yourself."

She hummed with a nod. Swallowing, she allowed herself a moment for her throat to clear before she continued to gorge.

“Sounds about right,” Tori said to herself.

With how fast she got the meat down, it was becoming clear how starved she was. Shoving the remaining few slices in her mouth, she then wiped her hands on the sides of her pants. Her arms folded, and she forced a look of deep thought.

Disclosing some of her own story while she waited on her food to digest was probably a good idea. Nothing crazy, just an introduction, at minimum—so they knew the risks in her coming along.

“Well,” she said, “not sure how much ‘a little bit about you’ means, so a brief summary of what I do is probably in order.“ She sat up straighter, taking a deep breath in and exhaling.

“I work here,” she started, “worked, rather. Jobless now with the whole running from mage hunters and bounty hunters thing, you know.” She cracked a weak smile toward Bo. “Odd jobs and what have you,” she said vaguely, looking to her hands. “Before all that, around five years ago, I supported a woman who helped mages. We all had our act together before we were cornered one day. I killed a young man, protecting myself.”

She noticed Bo and Mel exchanged a quick glance at that.

“His group of friends didn’t take well to it, so I was on the run for a while until they finally gave up,” she sighed wistfully. “Ran from a couple bounty hunters with another man on the run and nearly died running for the Wilds. Jeremy saved us from certain death, I think.”

She gestured to herself with a hand.

“So I hope this is also a ‘normal’ day to day affair for you too, running into people like me with dirt all over 'em."

Bo's brows drew together slightly, and he nodded, but there was something sober in his expression. He met her eyes with a searching gaze.

"The woman who supported mages," Bo said. "What was her name?"

Her head tilted to the side as she squinted, curious as to why he was asking.

“Gisa,” she said hesitantly.

There was a flash or sorrow and recognition in the man's eyes, and she saw his adam's apple bob.

"I didn't know anyone survived," he said in a low whisper.

And, quite alarmingly, his eye started to water.

Her stomach instantly hollowed.

She blinked, briefly looking to Mel and then back to Bo, who had suddenly started tearing up. That… couldn’t be good.

“Where did you hear that?” she asked, leaning in on her knees to focus on him.

"I... I tried to look into it myself," Bo said quietly. "Gisa and I were friends."

Tori felt her mouth open, but she shut it, pressing her hand across her lips to keep herself from saying anything before she thought about it harder. She felt her own eyes beginning to water, just at Bo’s reaction.

Bo and Gisa knew each other. It made sense, she realized. People who helped mages were few and far between, so it seemed reasonable that Gisa may have met him through some sort of collaborative effort.

But friends?

She’d never seen Bo before in all her time spent with the group. That meant he had to have been an old friend, for him to have known her then. But that would’ve been a good seven or more years. Maybe she hadn’t been paying much attention to how often Gisa left to spend time on her own or strategize with other supporters. There were a few times that happened, so she supposed that was the case.

She lowered her hand, taking up a bit of the blanket in her lap to fidget with as she watched him.

Her other hand had drifted to her side, where the hilt of Gisa’s knife peacefully sat beneath the fabric of her pants. No matter how uncomfortable it was, she would always keep it there.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, feeling her throat growing tight.

Bo forced a sad smile.

"What for?" he asked. "I never thought I'd find anyone who'd survived. Knowing that our paths have crossed... what are the odds?"

He let out a weak laugh, clearly melding with a small cry as tears began to trickle down his cheek.

"I know we're strangers," he said. "But... can I give you a hug?"

It was a bit awkward, she had to admit, but she could push that aside for now.

She nodded and turned to face him, getting up on her knees to better match his height where he sat. Warily, she put her arms out, hoping he wouldn’t crush her.

When he wrapped his arms around her, he hugged her gently.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find you sooner," he said in a whisper. "I'd promised Gisa if anything happened... I'd look out for her girls. I'm sorry."

“It’s ok,” she whispered back.

She wrapped her arms around his back and rested the side of her head on his shoulder, feeling her eyes start to sting. “Sometimes, awful things happen,” she said, voice cracking. “We can’t always be there for it.”

"I know," he said quietly.

Slowly, he pulled away, offering her a sorrowful smile as he sat back again.

"I'm just happy to find someone else who knew Gisa," he said.

Tori swallowed hard, giving him a weak smile in return.

“Me too,” she said, scrunching her nose to try and hide the fact that she was sniffing back snot. “While I couldn’t be there to protect her when it happened,” she spoke softly as she dug the knife from her pants, holding it tightly in her hands. “I was able to say goodbye, at least. And I have this old ass knife she never liked using no more,” she huffed through her nose.

Bo tilted his head with a grin.

"I remember that knife," he said with a faint chuckle. "She threatened me with it once or twice."

Tori pointed at him with the sheathed blade, narrowing her eyes.

"I'll beat yer ass," she said, in the lowest voice possible, resembling Gisa's. "Dont you ever forget it."

Bo's mouth spread into a smile, but his eyes were still teary. He let out a burst of a laugh.

"That's good!" he said, apparently referring to her impression. "I believe you!"

"Thank you," she said normally. "I take it that's how she introduced herself to you."

"Not too far from the truth, actually," Bo said. "Though, at the moment, we'd both threatened each other before realizing we were on the same side of the fight."

"Yeah? I don't doubt it. She was vile, especially if you were on the other side." Tori sat up, hiding away the knife again. "I stole from her camp when I was around fifteen years old, I thought I was going to die. Figured her and the girls she had at the time were bounty hunters and it was the end of it for me. Low and behold..." she smiled sadly. "She wouldn't let me leave once she found out I was on my own. I'm thankful for her."

"She was an angel like that," Bo said with a small nod.

Tori felt her smile beginning to fade already. She didn't want to dwell on much more. If she did, she may find herself wrapped up in guilt again, which she'd curbed in recent years.

"Yeah," she sighed. "She was."

In the momentary lapse into her past, she remembered Gisa's close companion, Eerie. With Bo mentioning the mortality rate of her group, she felt provoked to ask something.

"Did you ever meet Eerie? She had pale skin and blonde, nearly white hair. She had a young one, at the time. I never saw him in the aftermath," she said faintly. "I couldn't go searching for him with everything going on."

At that, Bo's eye lit up, going wide. He got to his feet quickly. She blinked, a little surprised at the sudden movement.

"Yes," he said with a small smile. He glanced back into the trees like he was looking for something, then looked down at her.

"We did find him," he said. "He's with us right now."

Her eyes widened.

"Really?" She asked in awe.

"I can show you," Bo said. "We had Mel's brother, Raj take him a bit further away because we weren't sure what might come up with you, and we just wanted to be careful."

"I can," Tori said, still a bit dumbfounded at the new information she was learning today. "I'd like to get moving as soon as possible though, so we should make it quick."

Bo grinned slightly, watching her with understanding.

"We can do that," he said. "I just think Sasha might appreciate seeing you."

Tori nodded and haphazardly folded up the blanket in her lap to set it to the side. She really didn’t want to leave the comforting warmth, but she knew she had to.

This whole experience was so surreal.

She never expected to meet anyone like this before. Those who helped mages existed of course, she was sitting right with them, but she herself hadn’t encountered many besides Gisa. It had been some time. It was intimidating, the more she thought about it.

Once she got to her feet, Bo led her into the trees.

As she followed close behind, she thought back on what she could remember of Eerie and her son, Sasha. Eerie was a healing mage, and Sasha was the unfortunate result of mage trafficking that Eerie had been trapped in for many years. Eerie had supposedly had children before him, but she wouldn’t speak much of it. Rightfully so.

Even though the situation itself was abominable, Tori could remember Eerie saying that she loved each and every one of her children dearly. Tori knew she loved Sasha too, relishing in the fact that he was born out of captivity.

At the time of the ambush, he was maybe four or five. That meant he was around eight or nine now. She wondered what he’d been through in the last four years. Someone from the opposing party must have taken him, since she never saw him at the scene.

They passed a few more trees. Just beyond the sight of Mel packing up behind them, she noticed a horse. Two horses, now that another tree had passed. Gold and brown.

She audibly sighed in relief, recognizing them as Elliot and Brenna. Honestly, if anything happened to either of those horses, Tori wouldn’t know how to forgive herself. Tiberius had gotten her invested in Elliot during their first getaway. Brenna was a new recruit then but had become her own emotional support companion over the years. Both of them looked busy eating. Good.

As Bo led her toward the horses, she saw two people come into view next to Elliot.

One she recognized as Sasha, simply because of his snowy blonde hair and pale freckled skin. He was petting a completely unbothered Elliot, probably lapping up the attention like a dehydrated dog.

The other person was unfamiliar, but she had a name for him, at least. Raj. He was standing close by Sasha, and looked to be overseeing the interaction between the horse and his attention-giver. He had Mel’s skin tone, but his hair was a bit shorter than hers and also a natural dark brown or black.

Raj looked up and toward them. Honestly, a bit sooner than she expected him to. He didn’t do much as his attention drew back to Sasha and Elliot, observing the scene. Sasha hadn’t noticed them yet, still engrossed in his purposeful petting session.

He’d gotten so big. She felt a wistful smile growing as they drew near. She herself never really had much of a thing for young children, but as they got a bit older, she started to like them better. Maybe it was being able to communicate that made it more bearable.

Elliot perked up when he saw her, his head lifting from Sasha’s hand to watch her and Bo walk up. With an empty hand, Sasha turned to Raj. In the process he seemed to notice them approaching, his chilling blue eyes lighting up instantly.

"Hey, Sasha," Bo said. "I have good news. The woman we found is okay, and I thought you might want to meet her."

He gestured to Tori with a smile.

"Sasha, this is Tori. Tori, this is Sasha," Bo said.

Tori gave an awkward small wave, paying close attention to her posture so she didn’t seem as threatening. Folding her hands in front of her, she waited for the child to speak first, if he chose to.

She wasn’t sure what to expect.

As if unaware that she’d greeted him, Sasha came right up to Bo to hug his leg. Once that was complete, he looked to Tori, his eyes a grown bit softer, searching her.

“Hi,” he said, nearly inaudible. “I’m glad you’re ok, Tori. You’ll be safe now.”

He smiled ever so gently. A much too tired smile, for his age.

Tori bent down to sit in the dirt so she didn’t loom.

“Thank you, Sasha,” she spoke softly, a smile growing. “I’m very thankful for the help from Bo and his friends,” she said, passing a nod of acknowledgement in both Bo and Raj’s way.

The boy’s eyes brightened at that. He straightened up, shifting to stand a bit further away from Bo’s leg.

“I’ll be able to help too, once I rest some more. Miss Mel said I’m very tired, even if I’m not very sleepy, so I have to be patient,” he said. After a moment, and a small tilt of the head, he gave her a sad look. “You need to rest too.”

It was almost like Sasha saw right through her, reading everything going on inside her.

"That she does," Bo said. And, getting on his knees, he sat down on the ground beside Sasha, getting closer to his level. "But she should be alright, now, Sash. She doesn't need healing. Just rest."

Tori gave a knowing, humble nod.

"Hey, Sash," Bo said, waiting for the boy to turn his attention to him. "One of the reasons I wanted to introduce Tori is because she and I actually have a mutual friend from the past. And you've met that friend in the past too."

Sasha’s eyes shifted back to her, staring deep into her soul. She’d forgotten how unnerving it was when he did that. It had gotten more intense, now that he’d grown older.

“A past friend?” he asked aloud, swapping his gaze between them.

He grew quiet, plopping down to sit in Bo’s lap as he thought.

“You remind me of the ladies that knew my mom,” he finally said, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t remember the main lady’s name, but she had skin like yours and pretty hair,” he said slowly. “It looked like thin ropes sometimes.”

"Her name was Gisa," Bo said softly. "Tori was one of the ladies in that group."

Sasha looked to Bo, then back to Tori. He had a focused stare, his lips pursed. She could tell he was thinking.

She huffed through her nose. “I had a lot longer hair back then, though,” she said, holding her hands up around her waist. “Around this length.”

“I think I remember,” he said slowly. “Were you the one who had the cool snake tattoo on your arm?”

Tori cracked a smile as she pulled her arm out from within her coat and began to roll her sleeve up.

“Yes,” she held her arm out, showing the twisting design that extended up her forearm, “this what you remember?”

His eyes grew wide at the sight, and he looked up fondly to meet her eyes. Though he didn’t speak just yet, she knew he recognized it.

Sasha got to his feet and came closer, analyzing the tattoo. Then he held his hands together in front of himself and gave her the most pleading look.

“Can I have a hug?” he asked.

Within moments of her nod of approval, he had himself buried in her arms, hugging her firmly. Ever so carefully, Tori let herself hug the child back.

“I’m happy to see you’re ok, Sasha,” she whispered, giving him a good squeeze. She could see Bo looking emotional again in the corner of her eye.

Sasha pulled away just a bit so they could meet eyes again.

“I’m happy you’re ok too, Miss Tori.” His eyes were teary. “The men who took me were so mean and scary. I didn’t think I’d see any of you ever again,” he wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then hugged her again.

“I didn’t think I’d see you, either,” she said, giving him a gentle pat on the back. “You’re real big now, y’know.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled through her coat. “Mister Bo makes yummy food, I hope you’ll stay long enough to try some.” He pulled his face out of her coat, and finally pulled away. “It’s thanks to him that I’m so tall now,” he said with a tiny grin.

Tori smiled, looking to Bo. “I might stick around for a while, if that’s the case,” she chuckled. “His bacon is pretty good, I have to admit.”

Bo shrugged with a small smile. "Just wait until we get into a real kitchen."

Sasha walked up to Bo and sat at his side. “Once you find your friend, then we can all have a good dinner together.” He leaned on Bo, watching her.

With a weak huff through her nose, Tori smiled. “Two friends, now,” she clarified. “The whole reason we didn’t make it here in time was because I stopped to help an old friend. He was hurt pretty badly, and had no one he was traveling with to help him.”

Sasha made a sad pout at that, but it faded after a moment.

“Oh… Well I wouldn’t want to leave a friend either,” he said, “so I’m glad you stayed to help. Is he going to come with us?”

Tori swallowed. She wasn’t sure if Tiberius would stay for long, if at all, now that all of this had happened. She knew he didn’t want to see her—or anyone else for that matter— get hurt because of him.

If her suspicions were correct, and the hunters were after him, it may very well be the decisive push for him to split away and travel on his own. That was only if she, Bo, and Robin could miraculously get him and Jeremy out of this. She didn’t want to consider what would happen if they didn’t.

She carefully rolled her sleeve back down, thinking on how best to respond. Once she put her coat back on, she leaned forward on her knees.

“I hope he does,” she said sadly. “He’s very kind, but he travels alone most of the time, so I’m not sure how he’ll feel about a group.”

"We'll ask him when we find him," Bo said, patting Sasha's shoulder. "Until then, we just want to get everybody safe."

After a small nod, Sasha went eerily quiet and still. It looked like a wave of tiredness had washed over him. It wasn’t far off from how Tori felt.

She peered to her side, looking for Raj. He hadn’t said anything since her and Bo arrived.

"I'm going to go with Uncle Robin to help Tori save Jeremy and her friend," Bo said. "Raj and Mel will stay back with you here and help you hold down the fort."

While Bo spoke to Sasha, Tori noticed Raj finally finished busying himself with the horses, and he came over to stand near them, holding his hands neatly in front of them.

Tori let Bo and Sasha be for the moment, shifting to her feet and standing up with a stifled grunt. She then turned to Raj.

“I’m Tori,” she said, extending a hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He offered her a very small smile, meeting her hand with his. The first thing she noticed was it felt coated with dirt.

He shook firmly twice and pulled away.

"Raj," he said. "You as well."

Once she returned a smile, she turned her attention to the horses. They didn’t look too bad, thankfully. Elliot was back to eating, and Brenna had shifted her attention from the grass to Tori.

Leaving Raj, Tori walked up to Brenna, waiting a few paces away for her. Brenna sweetly came to her and rested her head on Tori’s shoulder.

“I missed you too,” Tori whispered, gently petting the side of her head. “I’m glad you and Elliot are ok.”

She leaned to the side so she could see her gear. It looked like all her things were still there, so that was good.

Once she’d given Brenna her fill of lovings, she pulled away to go visit with Elliot and check on Tiberius’s saddlebags. She hoped he hadn’t lost anything.

Behind her, she could hear Bo and Raj talking softly. It seemed that Sasha had gone quiet.

Tori had gained some semblance of peace. Even though the group was relatively friendly (excluding Robin), it was still wearing her out socializing. She was thankful that they weren't being too pressing of her. If anything, they weren't being pressing enough. Mel and Bo in particular really just wanted her to rest.

She just wanted Jeremy and Tiberius safe. That was it.

Elliot meandered up to her, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Hi," she said gently, letting Elliot walk right into her, bumping his face into her chest. She could tell he missed Tiberius. With a gentle sigh, she simply held his head close to her, letting the horse get his share of cuddles. She had a feeling that Sasha had given him plenty today though.

"You're in dire need of some brushing, you know. What's the big idea getting all this dirt n' such stuck in your mane, hm?" she asked, plucking a few twigs from his mane.

Elliot lifted his head and turned a bit, giving her plenty of room to pet all over his neck and side. She did just so, letting out another sigh, this one more mournful than the last.

They would be ok, she reassured herself.

It was a blind hope, but it was still hope.

As Elliot absorbed her attention, she thought more on the situation. Bo's group didn't seem to be alarmed by the number of attackers she mentioned, which was a bit of an overestimate on her part. She hadn't seen a lot, but given the coronor's smoke, she knew that it was a raid group of some kind, and likely after Tiberius.

He had said that the most likely assailants he'd have would be from the Blue Suns. That meant she was perfectly reasonable in assuming the worst case scenario like she was.

She wondered how many of the raiding group were Blue Suns, and how many of them were highly ranked. Tiberius was the one everyone wanted, plus he'd angered the leader of the gang enough to warrant his capture and probable return to the sunspire. It didn't seem like he was being hunted outright before that, but she couldn't assume.

You couldn't assume anything, for that matter. Someone may present like a loyal companion. You could've been together for many months, through hell and back, and still they'd rat you out. It was just a known truth, here in the Outlands. It was a truth that had been real to her all her life.

Elliot had started breathing in her face.

"Sorry, got distracted," she said, patting his nose.

She looked to the saddlebags, and drew close to Elliot so she could make a quick peek through them. Nothing seemed to be missing, of the little that he had. She wondered if he still had the pocketwatch from years ago, but she didn't want to snoop to find out. She didn't want to disrespect his privacy, and doing so would only serve to pique her curiosity about his life again.

As much as she insisted he'd be fine travelling with them, she knew he'd probably disappear again, running off alone.

She leaned into Elliot's side, resting an arm on him for support. He needed a bath, a long one. Most of the smell was just horse, but the rest was just sweat and grime. She wondered what sort of joke Tiberius would come up with if he saw her being emotional over his stinky saddle and gear.

Closing her eyes, she just... laid it to rest for now. Breathing, trying to stay calm. She didn't even stop to think about how long she'd been there for, hugging a dirty horse, her face buried in its side.

"Hey, Tori," Bo said, his voice suddenly beside her. "You think you'll be ready to head out soon?"

She didn't budge as she opened her eyes, timidly peering up at him.

"I've been ready," she said plainly, meeting his gaze. "I was just making sure the horses were properly babied, is all." She patted Elliot.

Bo grinned. "As you should," he said.

"Elliot here is spoiled though," she said, patting him again.

"Is he yours?" Bo asked.

"He's my friend's. Brenna is mine though," she said, gesturing to her. "I hope they've both been manageable while I was out."

"They've been good," Bo said with a grin, patting Elliot lightly. "If you're ready, why don't you grab Brenna. My horse is back with Mel, and well, Robin doesn't ride horses. It's his preference."

That was understandable. If she could shift, she’d likely do the same. Tori simply nodded at that.

“Right,” she said, turning to Elliot. She gave him a good hug and final pet of the nose. “Be a good young man and take care of Sasha while I’m gone.”

Tori turned away and called Brenna over with a few clicks of the tongue. She walked right up beside her, brushing her face against her arm for pets. Tori let her have them as she looked to Bo, who had yet to wander back for his mount. He was watching Sasha and Raj.

“Hey,” she cleared her throat. A weak smile hit her lips when he turned her way. “Do you mind standing near in case I lose my balance?” She scratched the back of her neck, looking awkward. “Jeremy usually helped me with that but,…” she raised her brows knowingly while she grit her teeth. “Y’know.”

"I don't mind at all," Bo said with a small smile. He extended his arm for her to take. "Would this help?"

“It will, thank you,” she said. “One moment.”

She shifted Brenna over so she was close enough, and used Bo’s arm for support as she carefully pulled herself onto the saddle. Just swinging her leg over reignited something in her lower back, so she was thankful for the help.

Once she was properly seated, she let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you,” she said down to Bo, which wasn’t far.

"Of course," he said. "I'll follow you."

She waved goodbye to Sasha, who had sat down with Raj to watch her and Bo. He gave a tiny wave back.

After a few, her and Bo made it back to where Mel was packing up with the other horses. She was patiently waiting for them when they returned. Tori left Bo behind to mount his horse as she waited nearby Mel.

Robin was nowhere to be found, presumably still hiding in the same bush. She wished she could hide in a bush right now, too.

Bo rode up to them. After their goodbyes, Robin slinked out of hiding to join them, looking just as unhappy as he did before.

Tori felt the pit in her stomach beginning to grow as they set off into the forest, Robin taking the lead. She had no idea what to expect, nor any idea what may have happened to Jeremy or Tiberius while she was out. The fact that she even survived was a miracle, and that was with help. The two of them had nothing.

Her and her newfound companions would have to scrape together an another miracle in order to save them. They had to.

The earth was cold against his face, and he couldn't keep track of how many hours passed. At some point, he'd been picked up and carried, and he was aware that they'd moved for some portion of the day, but all of it was blending together. He'd been kept under for large portions of the day, and no one bothered to give him any food or even much water, so he felt hollow, and his already spinning head was empty, like an echo chamber for every spiralling thought of doom.

After Jeremy was forced to witness Ramona's torture, Jeremy was kept separate from him. Apparently, Ramona had "reason to believe they would conspire," to which he didn't consider logical, considering he was barely able to have a coherent thought, nevermind hold a conversation or come up with an escape plan.

But she was high off of power, and, apparently having been appointed by Rita herself to capture him, was clearly determined not to make any mistakes. Leaving no room for error, she kept James (and he assumed Jeremy as well) tied up thoroughly at every joint, leaving it so he couldn't move, aside from rolling - which served no purpose.

He was lying stomach-down to the ground, placed beside the fire like decoration while Ramona and her crew ate dinner.

Naturally, he was within range of the scent of food, which only added insult to injury. His empty stomach ached with hunger, but at the very least it was a familiar pain he was used to having to sit out, and he was able to ignore it. With everything else in his body hurting, it wasn't the prevailing sensation anyway. He felt like a bruise. Ramona liked her punches.

Face towards the forest, he merely stared into the darkness, trying to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable.

He wasn't ready to see Rita again. His gut twisted just at the thought.

Behind him, the blue suns chatted about nothing, like he wasn't even there, and he couldn't even find enough focus to listen in. Maybe if he thought there was some plausible way out of this he would try to strategize, but all he could see was that hope was lost.

He couldn't save Jeremy. He couldn't even save himself.

He hated that he was giving up. But what else was he supposed to do? He knew if he tried to wriggle his way out of the ropes now, all that would happen was he'd get caught right away and beat up again.

He pressed his cheek into the cold earth, letting the ground provide the slightest cooling effect for his aching frame. It wasn't much, but it was something, and he supposed he could be grateful for that much. Sometimes the forest cared for him better than he did.

An explosion of laughter behind him made him jump, and he flicked his eyes over his shoulder, even though he couldn't move to see. Sinking his head back to the ground, he let out a small sigh, looking back into the forest.

All he expected to see was darkness, but in the flickering firelight casting stark shadows across the clearing, he saw a figure step out of the shadows.

The silhouette of the long dark coat, and the short dark hair were familiar, and when she stepped into the light, he recognized the face of Tori - stern, angry, and eyes pinned on one person behind him.

Conversation dropped to sudden silence, and he heard someone get to their feet behind him.

"Look at that," Ramona said with a lilt in her voice. "Toriko Hisaue. I never thought I'd see you again."

The firelight in Tori’s eyes dimmed.

Again. That meant they'd known each other? Suddenly things felt like they were starting to fall into place...

“Where’s Jeremy?” Tori asked, loudly and firmly. She seemed entirely unfazed by the comment Ramona had made.

"Alive," Ramona said with mock offense. "He's by the horses. What, are you two a couple?"

A moment of silence.

“What relationship he has with me is of no concern. What matters is that he comes back to me alive. Just like how you assholes want him alive,” she said, not even passing a glance toward James.

“Didn’t think you were the bounty hunting type,” Tori said coolly, “what happened to getting on people’s good sides? Promotion get to your head?”

Ramona's footsteps drew nearer, and James froze when he felt her shadow fall over him. She stepped over his head, one foot in front of it, one behind.

"Promotion's not what did it," she said smoothly. "But having a high-profile criminal kill both your brothers jades you a little."

Tori’s gaze shifted to him, her brow furrowing. She looked back to Ramona, a deep frown forming in her jaw.

James felt his heart drop into his stomach.

This is what he'd been afraid of. That she would see him differently. But maybe that had been selfish of him, to hope that her perception of him would never change. Hoping that maybe he could at least stay the hero in someone's eyes, even when he knew he wasn't one.

He swallowed, shrinking under Ramona's height.

"Yeah," Ramona continued after a heavy silence. "I bet he conveniently left that part out, didn't he? That is, if he told you anything at all."

“He… did leave that out,” Tori said slowly.

She slicked her bangs back and out of her face with a shaky sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Tori faltered, “about Ron and Hoss. I know you loved them dearly.”

"Me too," Ramona said lowly, and James could sense her weight shift above him. Her foot landed on his head, her heel digging into his ear.

"So you want Jeremy, then?" she asked.

“I’ll leave quietly with him,” Tori said. “ I don’t want to cause you or the Suns any trouble.”

"Well, I have no objections to that," Ramona said breezily. "He's not who I came for, anyway."

Calling over her shoulder, she told two of her men to grab Jeremy. James heard the footsteps and the shuffling, and the dragging of Jeremy's body across the ground.

Eventually, Jeremy came into view, dropped at Tori's feet.

All James could see was Jeremy's back, where his hands were bound behind him.

"I hope you don't mind taking him as is," Ramona said, digging her heel further into James's head. James winced, squinting in pain. "Trust issues and all that. I don't want him trying anything stupid. You might not be soft on Mr. Hemming, but your Jeremy seems to be."

Tori’s gaze stiffened.

“Right,” she scoffed to herself. “What do you intend to do with him?” she asked, gesturing with her head to James.

"I'm afraid that's none of your business, now," Ramona said.

With that, Tori quietly bent down to Jeremy, looking him over.

A huff of the nose as she shook her head. “Of course,” Tori said to herself, “none of my business.”

There was a spot of silence that fell over the camp as Tori knelt down beside Jeremy, and Ramona stayed still, her foot still resting on James's head.

James wanted to say something, but he knew it wouldn't help. He couldn't speak anyway. The gag in his mouth had been there ever since he'd been caught, and it was clear that Ramona wasn't interested in what he had to say. No one else had any reason to be either.

"Hurry up," Ramona said after a minute passed. "Take him and go."

“Sheesh, you’re that unhappy to see me.” Tori groaned. Her gaze lifted from Jeremy to James.

“You ain’t gonna let him have any final words?” she asked. “Seems a bit out of your style to not rub it in.”

Ramona hummed.

"I do like to watch him squirm," she said. "I just want to know why you want to."

“I healed the dipshit up for a week straight just so he could walk,” she huffed. Her voice grew quieter after she looked to Ramona. “You’d want to make him say thank you, too.”

James felt the tense silence above him as Ramona seemed to me mulling over Tori's words. Then, she lifted her foot off of James's head, and knelt down beside him. Slipping her fingers under the bandana that tied the gag in his mouth, she pulled it out slowly, and he could see she was looking up at Tori, making unbroken eye contact.

James felt his whole jaw ache the moment his mouth was set free, and he couldn't help but let out a weak gasp as his mouth was finally allowed to fully relax.

Weary, he looked up at Tori, his chest twisted in pain, knowing there was nothing he could do to make any of this better. Regret weighed him down like a millstone.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, feeling his eyes sting.

Ramona grabbed his head roughly, shoving the gag back in his mouth, tying it tight once more.

"There," she said. "You got your thank you. Now get out of my camp."

Tori stood silently, lifting Jeremy effortlessly to his feet. He wobbled into her, soon looking back to James. There was no anger or scorn to be seen in his gaze, only a determined frown.

“Right-o, Madam Drier, whatever you say,” Tori mocked from behind Jeremy.

Turning to leave with him, she hesitated where she stood for a moment, looking back to Ramona.

“Goodbye, Rams,” she said. Then she turned, not even acknowledging James’s thank you, and started back off into the forest with Jeremy.

James watched Tori dissapear with a mix of dread and relief. Relief that Jeremy would be spared from the Blue Suns, and that Tori was alive, but dread for what would become of him very shortly.

The fear felt paralyzing, creeping into his body like he was drowning in it.

He laid frozen still when Ramona leaned over him, her face close to his.

"I thought you'd get a kick out of that," she said with a malicious grin. "The fact that we used to be friends."

James didn't know what to think of it anymore. He knew Tori had said she'd almost joined them, but he hadn't thought their circles would've intertwined like this. He didn't like to think that Tori knew Ramona, or might've met Ron or Hoss, or that Tori had an opinion of the Drier family. That she would too be grieving their loss. He didn't want to think about how deep it all went, and how out of control everything felt.

Gods, he wished Tori never found him. Then maybe he could've died there on that forest floor before anyone could miss him. Why couldn't he fade into oblivion? Did this really have to be how it ended?

Even worse... what if it didn't end?

What if Rita kept him chained forever?

He couldn't bear the thought. Knowing that no matter what his future held, he'd be robbed of all agency, he couldn't help but feel like a husk of a person. There wasn't much left to him, anymore. Just pain.

"Oh, don't be so pitiful," Ramona said, knocking the side of his head with her fist. "You'll get to see your true love soon enough."

And that made his heart sink all the more.

She didn’t know what to expect of this rescue mission, but it certainly wasn’t that.

Her heart ached seeing Ramona again. It ached seeing the hurt and pain in her eyes, set in her jaw and brow, built up deep inside her. It hurt more, knowing her brothers were gone. She didn’t want to believe her when she said that it was Tiberius’s doing.

When her and Ramona had spent time together, they often talked about their siblings. Tori of her younger sister, Genesis, and Ramona of her two brothers Hoss and Ron. While it wasn’t a lot, it was a comforting sense of structure and familiarity to Tori at the time.

It was a reminder that everyone, even the Suns, were human.

Everyone had an instinct to protect what was dear to them, but there were times that you were unable to act on those instincts.

Her gang was a prime example of this. Tori couldn’t do a single thing to stop what had happened to Gisa and her comrades. Nothing she ever did would ever bring her back.

Likewise, she knew Ramona couldn’t protect Ron forever. Tori had to watch her wrestle with the protective instinct and let her older brother, Hoss, be the protection for him.

Nothing Ramona could do would ever bring them back. Tori didn’t know what to think of it or who to blame. Neither side was free of sin.

Tori stifled a cry, taking a momentary pause in her pace to breathe. The ache in her chest had returned full force. Her eyes pinched shut, a weak whimper sounding out.

Jeremy’s head leaned into hers, and he breathed on her, not unlike Brenna and Elliot did. He couldn’t say anything, being gagged. She was thankful he couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” Tori began, stuttering, “I know you wanted to help him. I know you did,” she held him closer, her voice nearly cracking, “but I had to get you out. You could’ve died.”

Tori powered through the tears that had fallen, wiping her face on her shoulder to dry her eyes.

“We’ll go back for him,” she said, her voice but a whisper. “There’s always more to the story, and that wasn’t all of it. Ramona’s full of shit.”

Jeremy let out a weak snort.

After walking a bit further, finally approaching where Bo had hunkered down to wait, she slowed to another painful stop.

Bo stepped out from behind the bushes, hurring up to her, extending his hands to offer to take Jeremy's weight from her.

"Here," he said.

She heard the bushes rustle behind them, and Robin came slinking out of them, hurrying up to Jeremy's side on all fours.

Tori released him, Jeremy shifting his weight over and into Bo’s hold. Bo gently set Jeremy down to his knees so Jeremy could sit, and both Bo and Robin began working at the mess of ropes holding Jeremy's limbs together. Robin instantaneously shifted to his human form, working at the knots with his fingers.

The first thing Bo gently pulled away was the gag, tossing it to the ground.

"Hey, Jeremy," Bo said gently with a small, sad smile.

Robin tore at the ropes around Jeremy's ankles and knees, ripping them away. Jeremy slouched a bit once his legs were free. Bo was working on the knots around Jeremy's wrists.

“Hi, Bo,” Jeremy retorted weakly. Talking caused him to cough, and ultimately he spent a good few seconds clearing his throat. “Hi, Robin,” he looked to the smaller wolf-now-man who was blending into the dark just as well as he was before, “funny seeing you here.”

A faint smile graced Tori’s lips at Jeremy’s humor before it instantly faded into nothing once more. She didn’t know what to say, nor what to do, so she just… stood there, still reeling from the encounter.

Bo finished untying the knots around Jeremy's wrists, and he pulled the rope away. The moment he did so, he gently pulled Jeremy into a hug.

"I'm glad you're okay," Bo said softly, bringing his arms around Jeremy's back.

Jeremy audibly sighed, unknown to Tori if it were in pain or relief. He quietly took the hug, embracing Bo. After a moment, Jeremy’s arm reached out for Robin’s dark shadow at his side, beckoning him in.

Robin shifted, and his wolven form wedged between Bo and Jeremy, joining the embrace. They stayed like that for a moment before Bo pulled away, and Robin leaning closer, looking at Jeremy's face.

"May I heal you up a bit?" Robin asked.

Jeremy nodded, letting his face hang lower.

Robin lifted his nose, resting it on Jeremy's cheek. Tori watched as that familiar healing glow transfered from the tip of Robin's nose to Jeremy's face, causing the dark shadow of the bruise around Jeremy's eye to dissapate.

“A mage werewolf,” Tori said to herself slowly. “Totally not what I expected to meet out here.”

"Oh, shut up," Robin said through his wolven mouth - something that stil threw Tori off. "You brought Jeremy back. Why make a dig at me?"

"Hey," Bo interjected, getting to his feet. "Let's not escalate things."

He turned to look at Tori while Robin continued to inspect Jeremy for wounds.

"I know this is only half of the people you came for," he said softly.

Tori gave a stiff nod.

“I don’t know how to get him out of there,” she said plainly, trying not to cry in front of the new companions she’d only made today. “The way I was forced out, I froze. He probably thinks I abandoned him,” she said sadly. Her fists formed tightly at her sides.

Bo's brows drew together in concern.

"We'll go back for him," he said softly.

"Not with Jeremy like this," Robin butted in. "He's in no shape for a rescue mission."

Bo looked over at Robin with a short sigh.

"I'll go with her," he said. "You can take Jeremy back to Mel and Raj."

"Like hell you're going alone with her," Robin spat. "Didn't you see who that guy was? That's Tiberius Hemming. The man who killed Verna. She was your fr--"

"You don't have to remind me who she was," Bo cut in, his voice alarmingly cold.

Robin fell silent, but let out a low growl.

Tori’s heart sank.

She felt backed into a corner, like a sword was held to her throat. They knew of Tiberius. He’d killed someone dear to them. Gods, what had she gotten herself into? Why did she ever have to find him that day, why did Jeremy have to smell him? She felt so many overwhelming emotions, mainly fear, building up in her throat.

A small silence passed.

"I'm going with her," Bo said firmly. "I'm not asking for your approval. Just your support."

Robin growled again, pulling down Jeremy's shirt - where he'd presumably been doing more healing - and he huffed through his nose.

"And if you don't come back?" Robin challenged.

"You know I will," Bo said.

The two of them shared an intense stare, eyes narrowed at one another in the night.

"Don't do anything stupid," Robin snarled.

"I already am," Bo said. "Take care of Jeremy for me."

"You don't have to ask," Robin muttered, turning his face away.

At that, Bo turned his attention back to Tori, gently setting his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," Bo said quietly. "We're going to get him out of there. But we need to move quickly. They're probably already moving now that they know we know their location. If we lose them to Dagger's Heart, we may not be able to get him back. We need to move now."

He lowered his chin and met her eyes.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

“I—“ she started, barely able to process the fact that he was supporting her. “Right,” she muttered.

Before he could lift his hand, she set her own on top of his, trembling. With a deep inhale, she let the breath go, collecting herself.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, releasing her hand. “I’m ready.”

Bo nodded, and it felt like nod of a captain - like she was looking into the eye of a military leader as much as she was the man who'd insisted she eat bacon that morning.

"Let's get to the horses," he said.

They were moving again. He'd been thrown on the back of a horse like a sack, blood rushing to his head as it hung off the side, upside-down. His head was already spinning before, but now it felt like it was going to explode after more than ten minutes of blood pooling in his skull.

He could barely think. Swaying with the horses's movements, he wished his hands were free so he could hold himself steady. Instead, he was at the mercy of the horse's haunches, throwing him foward and back with their momentum, over and over.

It felt like they were in a hurry. He didn't know why.

He'd overheard Ramona say something to one of her men about them being in a rush, but he didn't know what they were rushing to. Dagger's Heart was still more than a day away, and they weren't going to make it there overnight.

If she'd been spooked by Tori's appearance, she didn't show it. Tori had gotten what she came for, so he didn't expect her to return, but perhaps Ramona was just being cautious. Paranoid. He understood that working for Rita could make you extra careful to complete the mission she sent you out to do, but at this rate, he didn't see failure as a possibility. If anything, Ramona was a day away from getting accolades and rewards for fetching Rita's most prized possession.

They came to a sudden stop, and James felt his eyes strain from the pressure building behind them as he turned his head, trying to see what was ahead of them. In a moment, a flush of memories came rushing back to him as he stared up at the blurry silhouette of a tall cabin, with windows lit like lanterns in the middle of the night.

This was the cabin he'd stumbled upon a year ago.

This was where it all started. When he'd gotten into this mess.

He started feeling faint. A ringing began in his ears, and he didn't know if it was because of the stress, the pain in his skull, or the overwhelming dread freezing up every limb and locking every joint.

No. No. No. Please, no.

Were the gag not so tightly cutting into his mouth, he would be begging. He had no more shame. No more pride to lose. Nothing left at all.

He couldn't breathe. Every breath was too shallow, too painful, and he couldn't get enough air. His eyes stung again, this time with an ashen burning, and when someone came and pulled him off the saddle, he thought he was going to throw up.

Instead, he heaved with a groan, and the man holding him hoisted him under his arm, James's gut carring the brunt of his own weight. Not only did James feel small, but he felt like an animal being brought to the slaughter.

The lights were on inside. People were home. More Blue Suns were inside. He could see the shadows of guards, both stationery and revolving around the cabin, keeping a steady pace.

There was only on reason for the cabin to be so heavily guarded.

Rita was there.

He hated that he started shivering. The man holding him started to chuckle, like it was amusing. James knew if he wasn't so dehydrated that if he'd had any water inside of him, he would've peed his pants. Everything in his body was reacting the closer they got to the steps. The porch. The door. They were in the hall, and he was still being carried like a suitcase. Ramona had stepped ahead of them at some point, leading the way. His vision of her was blurred and distorted, and when she knocked on the door in front of them, it felt like the whole cabin might fall down. The sound thundered in his ears.

The door opened, and Rita stood in the doorway, her eyes immediately landing on him. The manufactured pity in her eyes made his stomach turn, and he froze under her stare.

"Why must you deliver him like this?" Rita said with a sigh, looking up to meet Ramona's eyes. "Give the man some dignity. Untie him."

Ramona, not even opening her mouth to argue, turned and did just that. The man holding James set him on the ground, holding him upright while Ramona bent down and untied his feet, his knees, and worked up to his hands.

She avoided eye contact as she collected the rope, rolling it up over her arms.

"He's here, just like you asked for, boss," Ramona said quietly, her voice subdued in the presence of Rita.

James stood on his own two feet for the first time in 24 hours, but it felt like his knees would buckle beneath him at any moment. The man behind him didn't budge, either, and still held James at his shoulders.

"Good girl," Rita said with a small smile, and she reached up to pat Ramona's cheek, giving Ramona a quick kiss on the other. "Go treat yourself to what's in the kitchen. The cook can whip up something fresh for you."

Nausea settled in James's gut. Ramona's expression softened, and she smiled weakly as she gave Rita a nod.

"Thank you, boss," she said, dipping her head down. "Is there anything else you'd like from me at the moment?"

Rita smiled warmly.

"No, sweetie. You did well," Rita said, patting Ramona's arm. "Go on."

Ramona nodded again, turning away to disappear down the hall behind them.

James's feet were glued to the floor.

"Come on, now," Rita said smoothly. "Don't look at me like that."

James was shaking. Visibly, now, he was sure.

"You can leave him with me, Mal," Rita said dismissively. James felt the strong hands gripping his shoulders recede, and they were replaced with Rita's, taking his, pulling him forward into the room behind her.

He stumbled with her steps, feeling faint. The room was starting to spin the moment the door shut behind him. He trembled when he heard the lock click.

"You won't believe the hell you put me through with that stunt you pulled," Rita said, reaching around his shoulders with a tracing hand. "Killing Hoss. I didn't think you had it in you."

She pushed him forward, at first lightly, and then with more force, guiding him to the bed. His knees started to lock up, and she paused, coming around to face him.

"Ramona's still loyal," Rita said softly. "It helps, with the blame set on you. Honestly, you did me a favor, killing Hoss. He was always a wild card. More loyal to his family than he was me. I'd like to thank you. My life is much simpler with you in it."

James couldn't manage a response. He was barely managing to breathe. Rita's head tilted to the side, and she smiled, almost as if in admiration. She reached up, gently caressing the side of James's face in a way that made his skin crawl. Her thumb brushed against the scar on his cheek.

He wanted to lift up his own hand to rip hers away, but for some reason his arms were stiff at his sides.

"I missed you," Rita said. And it made James want to run. But there was nowhere to run.

"What do you want with me?" he finally forced out in a desperate whisper. "I've already told you everything I know. Why haven't you just killed me? Why not turn me in?"

Rita pursed her lips into a pout, like she was wounded by the thought.

"I don't believe in being wasteful," she said, running her hand down his arm.

James stared down at her hand, watching as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Rita," he said lowly, barely managing to keep his voice steady. "I... I can't..."

He swallowed, freezing when she laid her other hand over his chest.

"Can't what?" she asked.

In that moment, it felt like he was a lake, and everything froze over. The air left his lungs, and any words he'd had prepared to say were caught behind his tongue, stuck in his throat. Rita leaned in, her lips brushing against his.

But this time, it was Rita who froze.

She pulled away suddenly, her brow twitching as she stared at the door. James hadn't heard anything. Then again, he missed hearing a lot these days.

Jarringly, Rita grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him forward, spinning him around and throwing him against the back of the bed. James's back hit the backboard with a loud thump, and his head bounced forward and back into the wooden frame, making his vision dance with spots of white.

Disoriented, James struggled to recover his sense of up and down while Rita violently grabbed his wrist in a vice grip, and then clicked what he already knew were cuffs around it.

Wrist aloft, he already knew he'd been chained to the bedframe.

Either she was being paranoid, or this was the beginning of something different. He found his answer when his vision finally semi-focused, and he found himself looking into the barrel of a gun.

Blinking, he stared up at her, still dazed, and his head throbbing.

"Who the hell did you lead here?" Rita asked coldly.

James could not think of an answer.

And then his blood ran cold.

No.

No.

Had Tori and Jeremy come back for him? Gods, please no. None of them would get out of this alive. Especially not Tori.

He had no chance to open his mouth in answer before the doorknob began to jiggle, and the lock clicked out of place. The door was thrown open, and instead of Tori, James was looking at Ramona.

She met Rita's eyes, and it was first time James had seen Ramona in a true panic.

"Rita, we need to go. Now!"

Ramona’s head knocked forward. Her eyes rolling into her head, she fell face first into the floor, a sickening thud sounding as her head hit the wood slabs.

Behind her stood Tori, a brass-knuckled knife in hand, recovering from the heavy hitting swing back into a defensive stance.

“Like hell you are,” Tori snarled, blocking the doorway.

The safety on the gun clicked off, and Rita pressed the gun to James's head.

"Here for this?" Rita asked coldly.

James was beginning to hyperventilate. Unfortunately, he couldn't manage to get his breaths under control. For all he knew, he wouldn't be breathing for much longer.

He stared at the doorway, eyes unfocused, barely able to piece together Tori's face. His vision was a blur.

"Nothing to say, hm?" Rita asked. "You came all this way for him. Surely you had something prepared, or you wouldn't have put all the effort into plowing down all my men like a mass murderer. Please, give me something to work with here. And make it convincing."

“I will give you no such thing,” Tori hissed. “Head of it all, and you treat people like this? It’s sick.” Tori slammed the doorframe, wood cracking under her fist. “I had no damn plans but to come on a suicide mission for him. From one runaway to another, I’d come.”

Rita tilted her head back, letting out an amused chuckle.

"How sweet," she said. "And here I'd thought his troubles were done following him. Now I have a stray cat on my doorstep. Why don't I make this easier for both of us, and I'll set the rules then."

She pressed the gun harder against his skull.

"You take a step forward, he dies," she said. "It'll be tragic, for me, because I wanted to have my fun with him, but at least we'll make things simpler for the world, hm? No more big bad Tiberius Hemming to worry about."

She began to lean down, squatting down close to James, her gun unmoving from his head.

"But if you leave now," Rita said, cupping James's face with her other hand. "Your stray dog lives."

Another crack of the wood in the doorframe.

“Fuck you,” Tori snarled.

Rita huffed a laugh, and she turned James's face towards her, forcing him to look at her instead of Tori.

"I'm getting impatient," she said, her hand trailing down his neck. "I'm giving you five seconds to decide whether he lives or dies."

And in the following seconds, her hand traveled down his shirt.

His heart raced in the ensuing silence, and he leaned his head back against the bedframe, burying the panic as exhaustion started to take over.

"Hm," Rita hummed.

Five seconds passed. She hadn't pulled the trigger.

Had Tori left?

"I didn't expect to see the Black Mask in my humble cabin," Rita said with a lilt of her voice. "Are you really here for this one?"

James didn't know what was going on.

The Black Mask was an urban legend. What was she talking about?

There was silence.

Rita stilly pulled the gun away, letting go of James.

"I know better than to play cards I don't have," she said, lifting up her hands. "Take him. And get the hell out of my territory."

"Gladly," a man's voice carried over lowly, almost like a growl.

Heavy steps thudded across the floor, and James found himself staring up into the face of a black mask, over the face of a man who was almost twice James's height. He was like a dark shadow, and when he bent down, he swept James up like he weighed nothing.

James's wrist caught on the bed, and the man paused.

Rita circled around, unlocking his wrist. Setting him free.

"Get out," she said, her teeth clenched together.

James was lifted several feet off the ground, and even though he was capable of walking, he didn't think he'd be able to.

He felt faint. He was exchanging one captor for another. He didn't think he could take it anymore. His heart was beating faster than he thought it could, and he couldn't remember the last time he breathed.

Everything started going white, and his ears rang again, but this time louder than the last.

And then everything went dark.

All she listened to for the next several hours were hoofbeats, heavy laden as they fled in haste. Nye’s most wanted man alive laid unconscious in the arms of the shadowed man who rode ahead of her, on the reddish brown steed she met earlier that day.

It still didn’t feel real to her. They’d broken into a place so heavily guarded, so swarmed with Blue Suns. With how frantically Ramona fled at the first signs of ambush, she’d unknowingly led Tori right to the leader’s room, even doing her the favor of unlocking the door.

Tori found herself in a standoff with Rita, and ultimately she was forced to back off for fear of the woman blowing Tiberius’s skull apart. The Suns didn’t need him. It really was just the Kingdom that so desperately wanted him alive. She had a deep, unsettling feeling that if she hadn’t backed off, Tiberius wouldn’t be alive to see another day.

Relentlessly, the false imagery in her mind continued to replay, over and over again. Blood hit the walls, soaking the bed he was cuffed to, and splattering against the woman’s chilling face. All while she could do nothing but stand and watch. She didn’t have to consider the possibility of the pistol firing on him anymore, now that they’d fled many miles away, but something about the encounter pierced her heart through.

It never happened.

Tori forced her eyes shut, taking deep breaths. It didn’t happen, yet her body felt as though it did, her heart thudding in her ears, blending into an odd rhythm with the hoofbeats.

He was safe.

Jeremy was safe.

Everything was okay. She’d take it one step at a time, as Bo had confidently assured her. Her eyes opened slowly, watching the Black Mask ahead of her.

Who was she to object his offer to help? At the end of the day, the man in front of her had saved someone dear to her. For all she knew, she could’ve been dead the moment her boot hit the floor of that cabin.

It didn’t matter who Bo was, whether the legends were true or not, whether he truly was the Black Mask or not. Accepting his help, Tiberius and Jeremy both had lived. For that, she was indebted to him.

They rode all night and into the morning, her thoughts slowing as exhaustion began to set in.

Eventually, the sunrise developed overhead, a fiery pink and purple explosion of color blending together above the trees. Though it was brief, the sudden beauty brought her to tears. She let them fall, now that she had the freedom to do so. Much like the waves of the sea, her tears built strength, the wave of emotions breaking, violently shattering upon the shore.

It was a new day, and she was alive to see it.

Though the emotions were painful, the guilt and shame still fresh, she would face it, just like facing the sunset that so quickly came and went.

So she embraced it that morning, letting her mind rest once she’d vented it all out.

Bo began to slow some time later, easing his horse to a walk as Tori followed him through the trees. She caught sight of a pale horse through the trees, and then Elliot and the other black horse.

They’d caught up. She felt a weary sigh escape her as she leaned forward into Brenna’s neck, holding herself upright as her body fell claim to the exhaustion. Her back ached so much. Even though she'd healed herself away from certain death, she had a feeling her chest and back were going to ache for a long time.

It felt like Brenna followed Bo for a short time before she slowed to a stop at the lack of Tori’s attention.

“Tori,” Jeremy’s voice urged beside her. “I’ve got you, let me help you down.”

Once she was on her own two feet, she quickly embraced him, pressing her face into his shoulder. She felt him release a long sigh as he held her closely. His hand held the side of her head, pressing it up to his own, their cheeks meeting.

“You’re alive,” he murmured. “I’ll all be okay.” He shifted in place to hold her more comfortably. “I’m so proud of you, Tori.”

She had little energy to spare beyond a gentle nod. They stood there for an indeterminate amount of time before Jeremy pulled away, meeting her eyes with a loving, yet concerned gaze.

“It looks like there’s room to go check on him now,” he said quietly, glancing to where Tiberius had been laid down nearby, “but you must remember to rest.” He looked to Tori once more. “Mel is more than capable of handling his injuries.”

Tori nodded once more.

“I know,” she whispered. “Thank you for supporting me, Jeremy,” she stuttered, feeling her eyes watering, “I never have anything to offer you, even though you—“

“Hush,” he said softly, taking her hands in his. She bit her tongue, meeting his eyes. “I love you, Tori. You aren’t obligated to explain yourself. Take your time, and I will be here whenever you’re ready for it, no matter how long it takes.” He gave her a weak smile that pulled on his tired eyes.

“Okay,” she mumbled as she wiped her face in her sleeve. “I love you too.” She smiled back to him, trying not to look pathetic and emotional. “Thank you, again.”

He nodded, leaning in to bump his nose to hers, his eyes closed.

“You’re welcome. Now go to him,” Jeremy said, lifting his head. He patted her shoulder gently. “He’ll probably throw a fit if he wakes up without you there, anyway.”

“That’s true,” she thought aloud, her eyes widening. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

More urgent now that she had a reason to go to Tiberius, she gave Jeremy another quick hug, then slinked over to where Bo had set Tiberius down.

She hadn't had a chance to see him up close, but now with the daylight falling over him, it hurt her heart to see him like this.

It looked like he'd been dragged through the dirt several times. Mud and grass stains streaked his clothes up and down, and sticks and dirt had caught in his hair, which was messily falling out of its former ponytail. It looked like he had some new bandaging around his neck, and there really was no telling what other injuries he'd sustained, hiding underneath his clothes.

The skin around his wrists looked like it'd been stripped raw, made red with rope burns, and there was dirt caked under his fingernails, like at some point he'd been clawing at the ground.

The only thing that remained untouched was his face, but not unlike the day she found him, he looked pallid, and the dark circles under his eyes were somehow even more pronounced.

Though he was asleep, he didn't look peaceful. His breaths were shaky, and she couldn't help but notice he was still trembling in his sleep.

Quietly, she sat down beside him with her hands in her lap, folded tightly together. She closed her eyes, simply listening to him breathe.

Instead, she started to hear him move. She opened her eyes.

With a quivering whimper, he looked up at the sky, pupils dilated and the whites of his eyes red. He rolled onto his side, curling up in a tight ball, hiding his face in his arms.

“Tiberius?” she asked gently, leaning in so she didn’t have to speak too loud. “It’s Tori. You’re probably thirsty, I have my canteen here, if you’d like some water.” She pulled it from her bag, holding it in her lap as she waited for him.

Tiberius slowly lifted his head from his hands, peering at her from behind them.

"Where am I?" he asked in a shaky whisper.

“We’re still in the Outlands, but Jeremy’s group is helping us get out of here,” she said, giving him a sad, but firm frown. “You’re far away from them, okay? You’re safe now.”

Tiberius drew his brows together, but he slowly began to sit up. Fear abundantly present in his eyes, he scanned the area around them, looking like at any moment he could burst into tears.

"We... got away?" he asked, barely audible.

Tori felt her eyes tearing up. She weakly chuckled, biting back the tears to give him a weak smile. Her hands tightened around her canteen.

“Yes,” she said, voice wavering ever so slightly. “We got away.”

Tiberius briefly met her eyes, and all she could see was a desperate relief. His lower lip trembled and his adam's apple bobbed. Barely opening his mouth, he drew his arms around himself, nodding.

"Okay," he said, but his voice broke at the word.

Crumpling forward in on himself, he began to sob.

Her own tears began to fall. With a quiet sniff of her nose, she set the canteen to the side and scooted closer, keeping her hands folded in her lap.

She couldn't tell if his tears were of relief, or fear, or all of it and then some. He just had so much coming for him at all times.

"Can I hug you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tiberius croaked out.

"Okay."

Her arms came around him, gently pulling him into her, resting his head neatly over her heart.

"Everything will be okay," she hushed, leaning her head against his.

He weakly reached around her, but when he found her waist, he clung to her tightly. He was still trembling like a leaf under her arms, but it was clear he didn't want to pull away. His cries came out like shuddered heaves, and she could tell he was beyond exhausted.

"Thank you," he croaked, his voice cracking. "Thank you. Thank you. I couldn't--"

His voice broke into a cry, and he held on even tighter.

She cradled him closely, rocking him in her arms.

“It’s okay to ‘can’t’,” she said gently. “I couldn’t do anything either.” Her voice faltered, huffing as tears started flowing.

Tiberius wrapped his arms around her entirely, burying his face in her shoulder. It felt like he was clinging on to her for dear life. Though his cries started to weaken, he was still sniveling into her.

Though it was heartbreaking to see him like this, he needed to release the pressure. She figured it wasn’t unlike how she felt earlier that morning. He’d had no time to emotionally react to everything that he’d experienced, so she was thankful to see the weight lift as he cried.

She had a feeling he needed this cry a long, long time ago.

Tori let some time pass before she said anything else, just holding him close, rocking him gently.

“I’m happy to be here for you, Tiberius,” she finally said. “You and Jeremy mean so much to me, I’m so glad you’re both okay.”

And finally, after a few sporadic tremors, he'd stopped shaking. He let out labored breaths, as if he'd run himself ragged, when he hadn't even gotten to his feet.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Tiberius whispered hoarsely. "Why did you come back for me?"

“Because you’re my friend,” she hushed, “and thats what friends do. Even if I can’t be the hero, I am never going to willingly abandon my friends and family ever again.” She squeezed him. “I don’t care if it’s hard for me. You’re worth it.”

He began to sniffle again, but she had a feeling his body was too spent to commit to another full cry.

"...I'm sorry I doubted you," he said, but she barely caught it.

“I forgive you.” She rested a hand on his head and held him there against her shoulder. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot with Rams,” she added. "It was wrong of me to humiliate you like that."

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Tori felt nervous.

"I forgive you too," he finally said, sounding like he was choking on a knot in his throat.

She buried her own face into his shoulder, letting her tears seep into his dirtied jacket with a long, rattling sigh.

“Thank you," she mumbled out.

At that, Tiberius seemed to fall quiet for some time, simply holding her as she held him, unmoving apart from his ragged breathing. They sat like that for some time, and Tori didn't keep track of how many minutes passed by before Tiberius shifted, finally loosing his grip on her and pulling away.

Sitting back with his shoulders slouched and his eyes turned low, he held his hands in his lap, not looking up at her.

If he'd looked exhausted before, he looked even more drained now. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were spotted with red flecks. His eyelids were droopy and his gaze was glassy, and it looked like at some point, his lower lip had split during the cry, and fresh blood was clotting up.

Gods, he was a mess.

"... If I ask... if you're okay," he mumbled quietly. "Will you get upset?"

She grabbed her canteen from her side, holding it out to him.

“I’ll only tell you once you’ve had some water,” she said.

Tiberius stared at the canteen for a moment, like he was processing her words slowly. Wordlessly, he took it from her hands and began to drink. Finally. Without a fuss.

Once he lowered the canteen and recapped it, she gave him a tired smile.

“I’m not upset,” she said gently, huffing to herself in amusement. “Or… won’t be, I guess.”

Tiberius's gaze flicked out towards the rest of the group, who wasn't more than a dozen feet away. She could recognize the look of shame and embarassment that followed as he once again looked to the ground, his grip tightening around the canteen.

"...Okay," he said quietly.

Tori leaned in just a little.

“You… do realize you asked me already,” she said with a simper. “Emotionally, I think I’m alright now,” she said softly. “Physically though, I’m going to be completely honest, my back and chest feel awful. I think we both need to lie down and rest.”

He went quiet again for a moment, and she didn't know if he'd drifted off, like he had been in the week before.

"Are we really safe out here?" he asked quietly, holding the canteen closer to his stomach.

"The area doesn't feel so safe to me," she spoke honestly, "but I think Jeremy's friends have that covered now." She passed a glance over her shoulder to Bo and the others. They seemed to have faced away at the sound of Tiberius's crying, perhaps to respect his privacy. She turned back to him, noting that he still hadn't looked up from the ground.

With a sigh, she laid down on her side next to him, not meeting his gaze just yet. After she wiped her eyes, she glanced up at him.

"I think Elliot needs to brush you for once," she joked, plucking a twig from his hair. "Look at this." She held it out over his hands and canteen so he could see. "He needs to step up his game, I think."

Tiberius briefly looked over to her.

"...I know I need a bath," he mumbled.

"How long has it been?" she asked. "I think for me it was... maybe three weeks ago? Maybe a month, I don't remember."

Tiberius grimaced.

"Better that I don't say the answer," he muttered.

“Hm…” she grimaced with him, trying not to laugh at how abysmal that sounded. “Forget I asked then.”

"Pretty sure you could've just smelled me and you'd get your answer," he said.

“You’re right. If it makes you feel any better, it’s not too bad.” She looked up to the sky, letting her eyes droop closed. “You should… sleep,” she said slowly.

Tiberius was quiet for a moment, but then he let out a small sigh. Lying down beside her, he curled up on his side.

"I'll try," he said meekly.

After a few long minutes passed by, Tiberius's voice cut through the silence quietly.

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way," he said softly. "I didn't know you knew Ramona."

She let out a sigh, opening her eyes to stare into the sky.

“It was a long time ago.” She looked over momentarily, then back to the sky. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t know what happened or how much of what she said is true, but…” she drifted off, thinking hard on what to say, “whatever the truth is, it’s in the past now.“

"You keep saying I don't have to explain anything... but I don't think that's fair. To you," he said lowly. "Don't you want closure too?"

A pause, but he kept going before she could answer.

"I haven't been very kind to you," he said quietly. "Nor a very good friend. I know you were just trying to be gentle. To not force anything. But it does me no good for you to tell me what you think I want to hear if it's not honest."

Biting her lip to keep from crying, she focused on the clouds passing by, staying quiet so he could finish what he had to say. She could feel her jaw starting to quiver as she listened to him.

She could hear him swallow, clearing his throat. His voice was still raspy.

"I didn't want to relive it," he said. "But more than anything, I didn't want you to look at me differently if you knew. I didn't want you to think... that I wasn't worth saving anymore. But it was wrong of me to censor myself in hopes of controlling you and your perception of me. I was selfish. And scared. I withheld everything when you kept reaching out."

He sighed.

"I know you're tired. I don't feel like I'm making sense. I just think you deserve better than... that."

He fell silent again, but the space left behind felt empty.

"It's okay to ask me what happened," he said after some time, even quieter. "I'm sorry I made you feel like I'd push you away if you did. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you were walking on thin ice. I'm sorry."

With a shaking exhale, Tori pressed her sleeve into her face, drying her eyes.

“You make sense,” she dropped her arm to her side, sniffing hard, “everything makes sense.”

Though she didn’t want to, she looked over his way.

“Before I start making no sense, I forgive you. I don’t see you any differently. I promise that whatever you do share …if I ask,” she took a breath, focused on keeping her eyes clear, “I’ll handle it with care.”

“I wanted you to have your space,” she said quietly. “It’s been four years, and you and I both have been through…” her voice faltered, “so much. I was scared that you wouldn’t see me the same, either. I’m sorry I took the coward’s path, not asking you when I had every reason to. I knew the sort of burden that would lay on you, and I did it anyway.”

"I guess we were both a little cowardly," he said faintly, meeting her eyes with a weary gaze.

“You really think?” she asked. She hadn’t managed to wipe the new tears from her eyes just yet, and they were clouding her vision. “I don’t show it much, but I’ve always struggled with that. Running from my problems.”

She finally wiped her eyes so she could see better. She had a feeling that the exhaustion she saw in Tiberius’s eyes wasn’t too far off from what he saw in her own.

“I think you helped work me out of that, as ironic as it sounds,” she said.

She found herself weakly laughing over something pathetic.

“You know, the ‘one runaway to another’ thing ‘m so attached to,” she drug a hand down her face, pinching her eyes shut. “It’d be better as ‘one coward to another’ or some shit like that.”

Tiberius let out a laugh. Or a cry. She really couldn't tell which it was.

"You like my joke?" she asked, half crying.

He sniffed, reaching up to rub his face and eyes.

"Yeah," he said weakly.

A success.

She let herself breathe, getting the laughter and tears out. Once she did, she wiped her face for what she hoped was the last time.

“Can I hold your hand for a second?” she asked.

"It's dirty," he said through a sniffle.

“So’s mine, it’s a perfect match,” she whispered.

She lifted her hand, hoping he’d take it.

Drawing one hand away from his face, he gingerly wrapped his fingers around hers.

He was right about his hand being dirty, but it was okay. The dirt and tattered skin met her own.

“Thank you for being my friend,” she said, firmly squeezing his hand in hers. "Even if you didn't feel like a good one in return."

He winced slightly, but returned the squeeze.

"Thank you for being mine," he said. "Even when I pushed you away."

Tori gave him a frail smile, then released his hand.

“Let’s try to rest now,” she said, nodding to herself softly. She began to flip herself over onto her stomach ever so carefully, resting on her elbows for a second, watching him. “I can fall asleep in peace, knowing we have things settled. I hope you find peace too.”

Tiberius hummed faintly, drawing his hand back towards himself, still curled in a ball.

"I'll try," he said again, this time closing his eyes.

Tori laid herself down on her stomach, feeling the cool earth below her seeping through her coat and into her chest. It was relieving, somewhat, even though being on her stomach was a different sort of ache to deal with.

Her eyes fell shut.

She focused on him for a while, listening to his breathing until she heard it start to thicken. His breaths laced with gentle wheezes, she knew he’d at least passed out enough not to focus on his breathing patterns. She could relax, knowing he was at rest.

Eventually she fell asleep. With how bright it was, it felt like she slept until midday. She pried her eyes open, letting them focus.

Tiberius was still asleep in front of her, but now with his blanket draped over him. She realized she had a blanket over her too. Peering at the fabric closely, she noticed it was her own. Someone had brought the blankets over to them after they fell asleep.

She flipped her head to the other side, finding Jeremy’s back facing her. It sounded like he was asleep too, with how deep he was breathing. It was probably him who brought the blankets, she figured.

Carefully, she began to prop herself up on her elbows. When her entire back began to throb not even halfway up, she lowered herself back down with a resigned sigh. She shouldn’t have slept on her stomach.

With how she was angled behind Jeremy, it was hard to see what anyone else was up to. Instead of looking, she simply stared into the depths of his sweater, listening for anything going on.

An occasional crackle and pop sounded, which led her to believe that someone started a fire. It smelled like one too, but there was an earthy sweet scent mixed in with it.

It had to be some kind of food. Now she really wanted to get up.

This time, she rolled onto her side and fussed around for a bit until she got herself sitting upright.

Looking for the fire, she saw Mel tending to what she figured was lunch. Sasha was seated by Robin, obscuring the front half of his wolf form. Bo, being the giant he was, looked like a mountain on the other side of the fire, laying down. Raj was sitting near Bo's feet, and it looked like he was... knitting something.

No one had noticed she was awake yet, at least visibly. She wasn’t certain what all Robin and Jeremy could sense in that regard. It seemed like Robin knew she was awake that first day, but she was unsure.

Speaking of, seeing Robin change into a human and back had happened so suddenly, she’d nearly forgotten she was there for it.

She glanced to Jeremy, curious if he was able to change form too. He hadn’t told her much at all about that history or anything about his childhood. She hoped that it wasn’t tragic.

At that point, Robin lifted his head, peeking out from behind Sasha.

He looked right at her.

She let out a longwinded sigh, putting her face directly into her hand for a moment. He definitely seemed to know she was awake, that was for sure.

Robin turned and it looked like he whispered something to Sasha. Sasha then looked her direction as well.

Soon, Sasha was standing over her, his hands folded neatly in front of him as he rocked on his heels.

“There’s some yummy soup if you want some,” he whispered.

Before Tori could reply, Jeremy shifted at her side. It was as if he was listening in. His head lifted, turning to look at her and Sasha. For a moment, he looked like he didn’t know where he was.

“I knew I smelled something…” he muttered. “Weird dream to smell soup in,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Tori smiled at Jeremy, then to Sasha.

“I will have some,” she said quietly, keeping her voice low so Tiberius could continue sleeping. “Thank you for coming over. I’ll need a second to get up but then I’ll be right there.”

Sasha looked bashful, his folded hands playing with the edge of his shirt.

“Okay,” he said plainly.

Before she could say or do much else, Sasha was already hastening his way back to Robin. Tori simply smiled to herself, letting out a small huff.

After a few minutes of staring at what seemed like nothingness, Jeremy finally sat up. Tori and him both gave Tiberius a quiet look, then met eyes. They both nodded to each other, silently agreeing that he should be left alone for the time being.

Quietly, Jeremy helped her to her feet and the two of them made their way over to the fire. He stood over Robin and Sasha.

Mel looked up at the two of them with a warm smile.

"Hey, sleepyheads," she said. "It's just about ready. Sasha, would you mind grabbing the bowls, please?"

Without hesitation, Sasha crawled on his hands and knees over to a large bag nearby and began rummaging inside of it.

Tori looked back to Jeremy, who had begun to sit down beside Robin. Robin seemed to like Jeremy enough to nuzzle into his leg once he’d sat down.

It made her happy, knowing Jeremy had made some solid friends. It had only been practically a few hours that she’d interacted with them over the last day, but they seemed more than capable. They were also kind, almost scarily so. She thought of Bo in particular, knowing who Tiberius was and wanting to help her anyway.

Quietly, she sat down next to Jeremy. The fire was a comforting warmth. It was soothing enough that she let her eyes close where she sat, embracing it as it melted away the tension in her shoulders.

She peeked an eye open when she heard Sasha return with the bowls, delivering them to Mel.

"Thank you so much Sasha," Mel said. "You're an angel."

Turning to Tori, she handed her the stack of bowls. "You can just take one and pass them around, dear."

With a nod, Tori took the stack, pulling a bowl from the top and handing the rest to Jeremy. He took them in hand, and she watched him take two bowls.

She eyed Robin who, unsurprisingly, was also eying her from Jeremy’s thigh, his head rested there as he stared. When wasn’t he watching her? She hadn’t even done anything. Hopefully it was just a general sense of scrutiny, which was entirely warranted given her history in the Outlands. He was probably just wary.

"Did you sleep alright?" Mel asked, dipping into the pot with a ladle. She nodded to Tori to lift her bowl so she could fill it.

Tori lifted her bowl, thinking on the question with a hum.

“I didn’t wake up until I smelled this soup of yours, so I think I slept alright,” she said gently. “My back aches like no tomorrow, but that’s a given.”

"If you'd like, I could help with that in a bit," Mel said softly. "To at least ease the pain."

She poured soup into Tori's bowl, and then waved for Jeremy to lift his.

She watched her fill Jeremy’s bowl, along with the second one right afterward. Jeremy set it down by his knee for Robin. Interesting. She was starting to realize Bo was right about Robin’s preferences.

“You don’t have to,” Tori said, looking back to Mel. “I know that generally speaking I should probably heal up normally anyway,” she said sheepishly.

Beside Jeremy, Robin began to lap up his soup with his toungue. Jeremy began to eat his soup with a spoon. Mel poured a bowl for Sasha and her brother, Raj, before looking back at her.

"I really don't mind it," Mel said. "I think there's no reason to stubbornly push through pain if you don't have to."

Tori settled the bowl into her lap, letting the warmth seep into her legs. As much as she wanted to delve in, she didn’t want to risk burning herself. Another few moments to wait before it cooled, probably.

“I just don’t want to be a drain,” she said slowly, chewing on her lip.

“Tori,” Jeremy said beside her quietly. “I told you Mel is more than capable of handling his injuries,” he motioned with his head back to Tiberius, still asleep behind them, “she can take care of you too. I promise you that whatever is going on in there is nothing she can’t handle.” He gave her a loving look. Then he went back to his soup, carefully taking a spoonful and savoring it.

“I s’pose you’re right,” she said, giving Mel a weak smile after. “I shouldn’t doubt you. You did save me after all.”

Mel smiled gently, finally pouring a bowl for herself.

"I don't want to force it," she said. "But I really don't mind helping."

“Oh, believe me, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to share,” Tori said, widening her eyes dramatically. “I will humbly accept. Once everything here is cleaned up and chores are done, that is,” she chuckled down to her bowl.

"Alright, then," Mel said with a small nod. "Sounds like a plan to me."

And at that, she hung the ladle off the side of the pot and sat back, taking a sip of her own soup.

Tori finally dove in herself, savoring the warming meal. With a delighted sigh, she let herself focus on eating slowly and carefully. The last thing she wanted was to ruin her afternoon by throwing up perfectly good food.

“Thank you for making this,” Sasha said sweetly to Mel.

"Of course, sweetie," Mel said, leaning over to give him a small peck on top of his head as he sat beside her. "You're very welcome."

Sasha grinned to himself. Soon he was delicately sipping at his bowl of soup, taking utmost care to not spill it.

Tori smiled. He was a cute kid. Shy at first, but he seemed to lighten up once he got familiar with the people around him. She wondered what Tiberius would think of him, once he awoke.

“Sasha’s right. Thank you, Mel,” Tori said.

“Seconded,” Jeremy said after her.

"Thirded," Raj added.

Robin, however, continued to slurp his soup loudly. She supposed that was one way of saying you liked it.

Interrupting their compliments to the chef, everyone's attention was drawn to the groan from the other side of the fire and Bo started to roll over on his side.

"I smell soup," he mumbled, barely comprehensible.

Mel huffed a laugh through her nose, watching as Bo sat up slowly, rubbing his eye.

"That you do," she said, clearly amused.

Tori watched in amusement as she ate.

Jeremy nudged her side, pulling her attention to him. He leaned in, giving her a smug smile, almost as if he wanted a kiss or something. Her bowl rested in her lap. She eyeballed him carefully, but before she could say anything, he puffed hot air in her face.

“Oh, that’s awful,” she groaned as she turned away from him, covering her nose with a hand. His breath smelled absolutely atrocious.

He started giggling to himself, entertained.

“Sorry, couldn’t help m’self,” he said. “You did it to me so long ago,” he patted her leg gently, “I was simply returning the show of affection.”

She sighed, shaking her head in despair. At that, Jeremy bumped her with his shoulder. He was right. She did do this to him many times in the past, but her breath couldn’t have been that putrid.

In the meanttime, Bo sleepily stretched out on the ground much like a cat, and then sat up fully scooting over around the fire, finding his seat next to Sasha. Mel handed him a bowl, and Bo served himself while Sasha climbed into Bo's lap.

"I slept harder than a rock," Bo said, leaving the ladle in the pot to lean back and let Sasha get comfortable. "Did you eat already, bud?" he asked, looking down at Sasha.

“I had a little bit,” Sasha mumbled, still getting comfortable. He looked like he was curling up to go to bed, which elicited a smirk from Tori. “I ate earlier, so I’m not super hungry,” he continued, craning his neck back to stare up at Bo.

Bo briefly glanced up at Mel, as if to confirm, and silently she nodded in affirmation.

"Fair enough," Bo said. "If you decide you're hungry, though, just let me know."

“Mmhm,” Sasha hummed. He finally settled down in a position that used Bo’s leg as a pillow. “I think you need to eat the most though, and the other guy who’s still asleep,” he said faintly, looking in Tiberius’s direction.

“He does need food, that’s for sure,” Tori seconded. “I think he needs the sleep just as badly though.”

"Very true," Bo said with a small grin, glancing over at Tiberius, who, now in Tori's absence, seemed to have curled up even tighter. He still looked fast asleep.

"We will need to get moving soon," Bo said, quieter. "Within the hour, if we can."

“Makes sense,” Tori said. She looked back to him, giving him a frail smile. “Do you have a predetermined direction we’re going or…” she drifted off, honestly unsure how to approach her concern on the matter.

"Ah. Yes. Now would be a good time to discuss our plan moving forward," Bo said, though he did glance behind Tori again, at Tiberius.

"I'm not sure how much Jeremy has told you about what we do, but we are part of an underground organization that works to save and preserve the lives of mages however much we can. Sometimes that looks like relocation, but very often those with young or those who want more security will opt for a more permanent settlement. I know you and Jeremy have your own lives, but from what I understand, it's been getting more and more difficult for you both to maintain a low profile and avoid not just bounty hunters but mage hunters."

He glanced down at Sasha, whose eyes were already closed, and he was leaning into Bo's chest, looking fast asleep. Bo continued, speaking a little softer.

"We have a bunker nearby we can take shelter in for a few days. There are more resources there and more comfortable places to sleep, as well as showers. We can start there before you two make any life-altering decisions. I find it's better to take time to think on these kinds of things, anyway. And it's easier to think on them when you feel less like a grease-ball."

He shrugged, offering an innocent smile.

"I mean no offense. This is coming from a guy who's also a grease-ball," he said. "But I also don't recommend making big decisions while exhausted either. So if you're alright with it, my plan is for us to make our way to our bunker. There, we can clean up and rest up and discuss plans in more detail. And with more privacy."

“Damn,” Tori said simply, putting the empty spoon into her mouth as she thought on all he explained.

So they did support mages, like she figured. What she hadn’t expected were things like bunkers or “permanent settlements”. It sounded a bit too good to be true for the latter, but the bunker was a solid plan for now, she thought. A shower sounded like heaven, too.

“Yeah,” she said slowly, “that’s definitely a lot to think about.” She passed a glance to Jeremy, who nodded in approval.

“We’ll take it as it comes,” Jeremy said to her gently. “I think just being out of the Outlands is going to do us wonders.”

Bo smiled softly, nodding in understanding.

"That works for us. Like I said, we want to give you time to consider your decision, and I'd be happy to talk about it more, but I know this alone is probably a lot to consider," he said. "That said, being out of the Outlands is probably the best idea for all of you right now."

He paused, once again glancing over Tori's shoulder.

"Mr. Hemming included," he added.

Tori let out a solemn sigh.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m hoping he sticks with us for at least a little while,” she looked to her empty bowl in her lap as she swallowed, “I don’t want to see him getting hurt.”

"Neither do I," Bo said, sipping his soup soon after.

It didn't feel real; the dust finally starting to settle, after the storm. Frankly, he wasn't convinced it hadn't, even though the last thought he could recall was Tori assuring him he could sleep. They were safe enough, but he didn't know what that meant. Yes, they were in the Outlands, and some level of danger was a given. But he also didn't know any of the people he was with.

Flashes of memories came back to him.

Rita, and her hand sliding down his neck. A black mask, and a shadow overtaking him. Tori, standing stiffly with a gun. Had it been a gun? The memories were blurry, and he couldn't recall.

Someone had carried him out of there in their arms, and somehow, he'd ended up here.

Whereever here was.

Senses on edge, James felt his hair stick on end as he opened his eyes, slowly unclenching his hands, only realizing that they'd been in white-knuckled fists until he felt the ache in his joints. It took far too much effort just to relax them, and the soreness he felt in his whole frame was overwhelming.

He was exhausted, but he couldn't afford to be.

Forcing himself to move, James began to sit up slowly, apprehensive of who or what was around him, and how they might react.

They hadn't put cuffs on him, but that could be a bad sign just as much as a good one. It meant they were confident they could catch him if he ran: and maybe they easily could. Maybe he'd get even more injured than before. They were mages, weren't they? Who was to say they didn't want him dead, anyway. It was likely he was only being kept alive because there was a small chance he could be useful to them - because that was the only reason he was ever kept alive. He was useful for money, bargaining, or information. Or... other interests.

Not that it mattered much what they wanted. Either way, it would be out of his control.

He scanned the group ahead of them, noting that everything was packed.

There was a dead fire. It faintly smelled of smoke in the air. There were seven people total, only two of which he recognized: Jeremy, who was sitting beside a brown woman with bleached hair, and Tori, who was lying down on a blanket, presumably asleep.

Except, she wasn't where he'd last seen her, which meant she'd moved in that time.

It gnawed at him, wondering how much time had passed. How much time he'd been vulnerable in the presence of strangers.

The others in the company were more unsual: including a towering man dressed in all black, a small pale boy in his lap, and a wolf curled up at their side. Beside them was a man who would've appeared normal if he wasn't... knitting? Was that what that was?

He squinted, unable to make out many details from afar. Things were uselessly reduced to colors and shapes, and he could only make an educated guess based on the movement.

Still a little far off, James sat up fully, pulling his blanket more snugly around his shoulders, unsure of how to proceed with Tori asleep and neither of their attentions set on him. He set his attention on the ground, ready to merely wait when he felt a nudge at the back of his head.

It made him jump, but when he looked over, Elliot stuck his face in James's shoulder. James sat frozen for a moment before his body finally relaxed in relief, and as Elliot dipped his head lower, James couldn't help but embrace it, leaning his face into Elliot's as he tried not to hug him too tightly.

It took him a moment to convince himself to let go, and fortunately, Elliot stayed still as James finally found the courage to pull away. Elliot nuzzled James's hair lightly before lifting his head, standing close to James.

Right. There was at least one other companion who was familiar.

Not wanting to leave Elliot's side, James sat still for a moment, but finally broke from his daze to pull his blanket off and roll it up. Quietly, he got to his feet and tied it onto Elliot's saddle, and briefly glanced over where Jeremy and Tori were.

Jeremy's shirt had been taken off, and the woman in front of him was healing him. James stared for a second longer than he should've, the image in front of him taking too long to process, as he wasn't used to being in the presence of people healing as a norm. Even Tori had been a large exception, and James hadn't been conscious for most of it.

He averted his gaze, only briefly having caught sight of what looked like numerous scars on Jeremy's back along with the glow of the woman's magic. James held Elliot's lead in his hands uncomfortably, not sure what to do with himself. His thumb rubbed over his knuckles to a quick, anxious rhythm, and he drew himself closer to Elliot, as if the horse would act as a shield to the rest of the world. Even though it was usually the other way around.

"Hey," a voice called out to him. With a flinch, James looked up in the direction of the large man with the boy in his lap.

"Tiberius, right?" the man asked.

Unfortunately, now that the man had drawn attention to him, everyone looked James's way, if only briefly.

James shrunk under the attention.

"...Yes," he said.

"We made some soup earlier," the man said. "But we saved some for you. Why don't you come over and eat for a bit while Mel finishes up healing and Tori finishes her nap?"

James didn't budge. His feet felt glued to the ground.

"Oh," he said absently, not sure what to say.

"Or we could bring the soup to you," the man suggested.

James still couldn't move.

"Oh! What am I doing," the man said, smacking his forehead. "I should introduce myself. I know your name but you don't know mine. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. My name's Bo. Mel's the woman over there with Jeremy, as I mentioned before, and this is Sasha."

He gestured to the boy in his lap. James couldn't make out much apart from large, pale, observant eyes as the boy stared at him.

"Next to me is Robin," the man continued, gesturing to the wolf. "Werewolf, which I've heard you're somewhat familiar with, I think? And this is Raj."

He pointed to the man who was indeed knitting. The man paused to give James a small wave.

Now James felt exceptionally awkward, but he had a feeling this kind of introduction was unavoidable. He'd been rescued out of one of the Blue Sun's private cabins, which was to say, a very untrustworthy sort of situation. They knew nothing of him apart from what the posters presumably told, and if they'd gone out of their way to rescue him, he didn't know how much of that they'd chosen to believe, or what Tori had told them in turn.

Finally willing his feed to budge, James inched forward, leading Elliot with him. Thankfully, no one engaged him in conversation in his short walk over, and he managed to stop just opposite of the others and the dead fire between them. Briefly glancing at Elliot, he let go of the lead and sat down.

"Hey, Sasha," Bo said to the boy in his lap. "Would you mind getting Mr. Hemming's soup for him?"

The little boy only nodded, crawling neatly out of Bo's lap and quietly walking over to where Mel and Jeremy were. He picked up a covered bowl gingerly, and set a spoon on top of it before walking over to James, stopping a foot from him.

For a moment, James and Sasha made prolonged eye contact, James unsure whether he should just take the bowl, or wait for it to be extended to him. He swallowed.

The boy finally offered it, and James carefully took it from his hands. The moment the boy let go of the bowl, he quickly darted away, back to the large man's lap.

James had to assume the man was his father, despite the lack of biological resemblance. And now that he was closer, he could see all of them in greater detail.

The man, for example, had only one eye. The other looked like it'd been lost in an attack or an accident, with dramatic scarring in its place. He had a clean-cut beard and his hair was kept short, which told James that he at least had access to such supplies to keep up with it. Though they were in the wilderness, he still kept up appearances.

The boy, however, was a little more scruffy - not in a dirty way, but his hair was a little more wispy and uneven. He looked like he was comfortable in slightly oversized clothing, and his pale, freckled skin looked mildly burnt from the sun around his cheeks.

The werewolf, Robin, looked about as much like a wolf as James would expect. Had James not been informed he was a werewolf, he wouldn't have thought twice that he was merely looking at a wolf. But when James made brief eye contact, he did have to pause. There was an intentional, intelligent look in the man's wolven eyes that was undeniable, but also unsettling, and it made James look away quickly.

He was able to deduce that Raj and Mel were probably related, as they shared a strong family resemblance. Raj seemed a bit taller, but they both had the same dark skin, short, coily hair, and mirrored facial features.

He couldn't let himself look in Mel's direction very long, though. He didn't want to look at Jeremy's back, which faced them, and reminded him too much of what it might feel like to look at his own, which was just as disfigured with deep scar tissue.

James looked down into his bowl, gingerly lifting off the lid.

A savory, hearty aroma wafted up to him, and his stomach immediately ached with a hunger he'd long-since forgotten. Not wanting to overdo it, he began with small, steady scoops - but all the while, his stomach was yearning to be filled.

Getting lost in the warmth and the pleasant taste filling his stomach, he managed to block out the activity of those around him enough to focus on eating. He was glad that no one interrupted him, because he didn't think he was capable of carrying a conversation at the moment, and he certainly didn't know what to talk about in a situation like this.

It felt wrong to talk about something small or petty. But it also felt wrong to talk about what happened.

He kept shoveling soup into his mouth until the bowl was empty, and when he finally looked up, Jeremy was clothed and walking again, and it looked like Tori was stirring.

James watched as Jeremy made brief eye contact and offered a weak smile. James held his bowl a little tighter, unable to find it within himself to smile back. Instead, he just dipped his head in the smallest bow, and Jeremy walked up beside him, sitting down.

James didn't know how long they were all going to sit like this, but suddenly, he felt obligated to engage in conversation.

His eyes flicked over to Jeremy, then down into his empty bowl.

"Hey," James said faintly.

“Hey. The soup good?” Jeremy asked quietly.

James nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "It's... nice. Digests easier."

“It’s nice having something warm too,” Jeremy said with a nod along with him.

Jeremy slumped forward, propping his chin on a hand, looking to Sasha and Bo, then to Robin and Raj, and eventually to where Tori was laying down. He looked back to James, giving him another weak smile.

“Tori passed out while Mel was healing her,” Jeremy let out with a faint huff through his nose. “She looks like she’ll be up soon, though."

James leaned forward slightly to look at Tori, just for a second before he leaned back again.

"Oh," James said. "That's good. Are you feeling better, too?"

“Eh,” Jeremy shrugged, “not too bad anymore, thankfully. Once we settle down again later, you should let Mel have her look at you too.” He sat up straight, stretching in his seat. “Once you’re feeling up to it, anyway.”

James nodded faintly.

"Right," he said. "I'm... I'll have to... do that."

As he swallowed down anxiety he couldn't pin the source of, he could hear more shifting from Tori as she groaned loud enough for him to hear. She sounded at least awake now.

Eventually she rolled over, facing him and Jeremy.

“You’re up,” she said slowly, yawning right afterward. “Soup. There’s soup,” she muttered, waving a hand somewhere toward the fire.

Jeremy just shook his head with a sigh of amusement, burying his face in his hand.

"I already had some," James answered meekly.

“Oh.” Tori visibly looked between the fire and him. “You have a bowl in your hands,” she sighed out loud. “Ignore me.”

She sat up carefully, yawning hard as she did.

“I did not mean to fall asleep,” she said, facing Mel. “Sorry.”

"No need to apologize," Mel said. "If anything, I'm glad you were relieved of pain enough to do so."

After a nod, Tori got to her feet and wandered over to James and Jeremy, blanket haphazardly hanging off her shoulders. She stood there in front of them, looming.

“You two look sad, sitting here all by your lonesomes,” she said plainly. She sat down by James’s feet. After getting comfortable, she looked up to him.

James didn't really know how to respond. He briefly glanced at Jeremy, then looked at Tori, his mouth twitching into the faintest, briefest hint of a smile.

"We're not really that alone," he said faintly.

Tori blinked, clearly still working the nap out of her system.

“Oh.” She smiled with gritted teeth, putting her face into her hands. There was a long sigh. “Sorry, I—“ she muttered as she shook her head, “—it’s been chaotic.”

Lifting her head from her hands ever so slightly, she turned to Bo, Sasha, and Robin, then back to him. She looked more purposeful this time. Her expression read like compassion, or maybe concern.

“I… take it you’ve been introduced?” she asked gently.

James nodded slightly.

"Yes," he answered, glancing at the others. "It... might take a few times for me to remember all of their names."

“Understandable,” she said with a weak smile.

Her eyes met his, but she soon looked to her hands, folded in front of her. She fiddled with them, running her fingers over the tattooed designs and lettering.

Jeremy’s boot came into view to gently nudge Tori’s leg. She lifted her head at that, first looking to Jeremy with a squint, then to James. It seemed like Jeremy had prodded her to say something.

“He wants me to confess,” she said. A tired smile formed for a moment, only to fade. “I wasn’t the one to save you, even though I was there. I… don’t know how much you remember.”

She took a deep breath in, pulling at blades of grass beside her. Everything she picked got thrown on James’s boots.

“It was honestly all Bo's doing, rescuing you,” she huffed in amusement, tossing another few bits of grass at him. “As much as I don’t want to admit it, I couldn’t break in there alone. I’m very thankful for his willingness to help you. I’m thankful for everyone here, really.”

She passed a glance to Bo, giving him a weak smile, then back to James.

“I’m glad you’re out of there now,” she said gently. “I know it’s… probably awkward,” her voice lowered, and she leaned over his way, giving him a tiny grin, “but it’s nothing two runaways can’t handle, right?”

James hesitated as his mind processed this new information slowly, chewing on the news that Bo was the only reason he was alive and free.

He didn't even know who Bo was.

Too afraid to cast a look Bo's way, James felt his shoulders stiffen as he pulled his hands together, wringing them tightly. He didn't know what to say to Tori. He knew she was desperately trying, and he didn't fault her for the discomfort of the situation none of them had control over, but he didn't know what to say to alleviate it. There was nothing to say that would make any of this feel normal.

"Yeah," he said in a way that felt too stilted, and too awkward. He frowned at his own attempt. "Um. I don't... I'm still trying to remember everything that happened. I think I... I can't remember much."

He shrunk down slightly. "I don't think I would've known if it was all you or Bo if you hadn't said anything."

“That’s why I made her say somethin’,” Jeremy mumbled at his side.

“Yeah,” she whispered. Leaned back on her hands, she gave a focused stare out into the trees.

“You were really beat up,” she said slowly. “If you don’t remember much… and with how Ramona and anyone else may have been with you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you got a concussion. There was also probably lumshade in your system.”

James frowned slightly.

It wasn't because she was wrong, but because he didn't enjoy remembering the feeling. He'd been so disoriented, it felt like one long nightmare. Even still, it didn't feel like he'd woken up.

He felt a prick at the skin on his knuckles, realizing he'd picked a scab clean off. The sting of fresh blood bubbling up made his repetitive rubbing and picking stop for a moment, and he felt trapped without something to do.

He'd already forgotten what exactly Tori had said. Something about him forgetting. What kind of cruel irony was that?

He glanced up at the strangers around him, realizing he'd already forgotten all of their names. Normally he was on top of this sort of thing.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking down at his hands. "I... don't feel right."

It felt like he couldn't find the correct words to say what he was thinking. It came out stifled, like he'd choked on half the words.

After some silence, Tori spoke up.

"That's okay," she said softly. "Just take it easy on yourself for now. I'm sure you'll feel better once you have some more rest." She shifted in the corner of his vision, turning his way. "Water too."

"I had water," James said, staring at his bleeding knuckle. "I think."

Tori hummed, tossing a blade of grass onto his hand, nearby the blood.

"Here," she said.

James stared at the grass. He wasn't sure what she meant by it, but he picked it up and put it in his mouth, eating it, not really giving it much thought.

"Dude, you're weird," she laughed to herself.

"You gave me grass," he said in defense.

Tori simply sighed, entirely amused. After a moment though, her chuckling subsided.

"Hi Sasha," she said softly, speaking to someone else. "Is there something you need?"

James looked around before his eyes landed on the pale boy he vaguely remembered earlier. He was standing to the side, watching them with wide eyes.

Sasha. Sasha. He needed to try to remember that name. It was the name of the boy. There was only child in their company, so it shouldn't be too difficult to remember.

"Um..." the boy started slowly, holding the front edge of his baggy shirt in his hands. "I just noticed..." he drifted off, vaguely pointing to James's bleeding knuckle, along with the various other scabs.

James looked down at his hand, then up at the boy. He covered up his bloodied hand.

"Oh," he said faintly. "Sorry. It's fine."

Sasha slowly held out his small hand, as if he were waiting for a handshake.

“May I see it?” he asked softly.

James hesitated.

"It... it's fine," he said, a little quieter, unsure of why the boy wanted to see it. "Really."

The boy pouted at him. Unwavering in his request, his hand remained outstretched.

“Please?” The boy pouted, his features growing more resolute. His eyes shone brightly as he waited patiently.

James glanced over at Tori, his brows pinched together. Tori’s own brows raised when he looked her way. She looked a bit interested in what was going on, but it wasn’t clear why. Nodding softly, she then gestured with her head in Sasha’s direction, as if trying to redirect James’s attention back to the boy. James frowned slightly with worry, but looked back to Sasha, timidly unveiling his bleeding hand.

He held it out, just a little.

"It was just a scab that ripped off," he mumbled.

Sasha’s eyes grew a little wider, and there was a faint glimmer of something like a smile as his cheeks raised. Wordlessly, he took James’s hand carefully with both of his, holding his fingers daintily. Sashas thumbs rested near his knuckles as he inspected all of the other scabs.

Soon, he was met with Sasha’s pleading gaze again. There was a great fervor laced in this time.

“Can I heal these?” he asked, still holding James’s hand with both of his.

James blinked.

"You're a healer?" he asked quietly.

“I am,” Sasha agreed, nodding firmly. “Miss Mel has been teaching me.”

James sat stiffly, unsure of how he felt about all of this. He didn't know why it felt wrong, but it felt unfair that a child should have to expend their energy to heal him. It felt unfair that anyone should have to expend their energy to heal him. He didn't want anyone else to suffer lack on his behalf. Especially a kid.

He swallowed, gingerly pulling his hands away.

"That's very kind of you, Sasha," he said softly. "But I'll be alright. Really. A bandage will do."

“Oh, ok,” Sasha said, nearly inaudible. His expression saddened as he folded his hands in front of himself. He looked to the ground, as if in shame, before he quietly turned and made off in Mel’s direction. James couldn't help but feel embarassed. He looked down into his lap, unable to look anyone else in the face.

The inaction didn’t last long before Sasha’s feet came into view in front of him.

James looked up, seeing that the boy had a small med kit in his hands. James awkwardly held out his hand, uncomfortably feeling like he was being watched by everyone around them.

Opening the box where he stood, Sasha dutifully handed him two small rolls of bandage, enough to wrap his hands with.

Before James could even breathe a word of thanks, Sasha turned and left as quietly as he came, taking the med kit back to its prior home. Instead of returning to the large fellow, however, the boy sat beside the werewolf. Quietly, Sasha laid down on his side, his body obscured behind the man so that his face couldn’t be seen.

James felt guilty, even though he didn't think he'd done anything wrong.

He glanced over at Jeremy and Tori, but someone started speaking behind him.

"Tori," the large man's voice carried over his head. "Do you think you'd be ready to get a move on soon?"

Tori had been watching Sasha. At the question, she sat up a bit straighter, turning her gaze toward the voice.

“I am able,” she said simply.

"Alright," the man said. "Then let's get going."

And at that, everyone else was almost instantly on their feet, bustling about to their horses. James sat for a moment, looking down at his bandaged hand. He slowly moved his fingers underneath, feeling the fabric shift and stick to the blood.

He should get up before anyone told him to.

Taking in a small breath, he forced himself to his feet and found Elliot. And what followed, he wasn't entirely sure.

He got in his saddle and followed. And that was all he found himself capable of until the stopped.