And then they DO IT!

[Wendy Berber]

*It was the chill and silent time of early morning, before first light, when even the birds were huddled together for warmth, cold and asleep in their roosts. Joss's van rumbles to a stop outside the house, and its with a tired wave of her hand that the glasswalker kin says goodbye, fumbling for her keys in the chill. A thud as she rests her head on the door, pushes it open. Its locked behind her, but thats all the care she gives to her usual routine, shoes left to track sticky red marks up the hall and up the stairs. Her laptop is left somewhere at the bottom of the steps. Her book satchel somewhere midway up. No glasses. Again. She squints as she pushes the door to the bedroom open and looks for her mate.*

[Boy]

Protector, defender, ever vigilant warrior of Gaia. But even he had to sleep sometime. He'd been out patrolling until some ungodly hour, and had stayed up even longer when he realized his mate wasn't home. But at some point he had to submit. Now he lay splayed out across the bed they shared, still fully clothed. But when the bedroom door opens, he sits bolt upright, bulky and shaggy in his Glabro form. That all melts away when he realizes its Wendy standing there, and he's marching toward her. Boy holds his mate in his arms, as if she might disappear if he didn't. "Where've you been. Where've you been." He implores, and squeezes her just a bit tighter.

[Wendy Berber]

Worked late.. Full moon. *Wendy protests halfheartedly, too tired for much else. She's sticky to the touch, and reeks of blood, sighing heavily and wrapping her arms tightly around the Uktena, ignoring the pain in her collarbone. It wasn't every night she came home bloodied and battered. Just every night lately. Spindly hands shake along his back.* Bl-b-bloods not mine.

[Boy]

Blood. He'd been so glad to have her home he hadn't even noticed. Boy takes a step back, hands still resting on her shoulders as he regards her. "Wha--what happened?"

[Wendy Berber]

*The spindly kin looks down on her mate, squinting to make out his facial structure. A deep frown.* Black spiral dancers.. i was w-walking to the bus-stop to come home. *She hated not being able to see him clearly, and so she looks away, dropping her hands to between them, pulling at a crunchy blood crusted sleeve. Tired, sore, sad. And now she had to relate bad news.* Liam, B-Ben, Art, Joss. All fought. I t-tried to run but they caught me. Boy... Liam.. *She scowls, moving to sit on the bead heavily. Muttering to her bony knees.* .. Liam's dead.

[Boy]

"N--" He started to speak, and then stopped. And then his grip on her shoulders grew slightly tighter. "No. No you must be wrong. I just...I just fought by Liam the other day." There's a strange look in his eyes, not that she can really see it. He's still there. All still there. But, perhaps more there than either of the were comfortable with.

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy ducks her head, Twiggy hands come to set on Boys over her shoulders. Perhaps to comfort. Or perhaps, given her stiff spine, in some false assurance that they stay put, and don't lash out in a rage like that which destroyed the library only weeks ago. The kinfolk clears her throat and confirms solemnly.* He.. he died. I' s-sorry Boy.

[Boy]

Boy's mood darkens. His hands twitch under Wendy's hands, and slowly shift down her shoulders and off her. "But..." He says. He just fought by him, he thinks of saying. Only now that he thought of it, Boy and Thomas were the only things that kept Liam from dying that night too. "Lets get you cleaned up." He finally says in a voice that is a raspy whisper.

[Wendy Berber]

I can- *Do it yourself? Of course you can. Wendy's shoulders jog as she shrugs and gives a nod, making to peel off a sweater weighed heavy with spiral blood.* Ok.

[Boy]

And Boy helps her undress. There's nothing particularly sexual about it. This wasn't exactly the most romantic of circumstances. But it was something intimate. Something that could be shared between these mates. He had come to know her body. He knew the proportions, and he knew the scars and blemishes. Most importantly, he knew what didn't belong. Not that the large bruise around her shoulder and collarbone really needed any sort of intimate knowledge to be pegged as out of place. "What's this? Boy said, fingers touching around the edges of the thing gently. His voice was flat. Not harsh, not gentle. It just...was.

[Wendy Berber]

Oh.. *She's shy. But they'd mapped each others bodies by now, and while the tired kin hitches her shoulders slightly in embarrassment, she doesn't cover herself or do any other such ridiculous thing. Modesty a luxury she can afford, never having shifted to another form and ended up nude among friends or strangers. Like Ben this evening. The bruise along her shoulder gets a purse of her lips as she finally drops the tank top she held like a safety blanket. Crane like girl clearing her throat and explaining lackluster.* One of the dancers was carrying me around.. for awhile. When Liam killed him the f-first time, he d-dropped me. I landed on the curb from k-kinda high up. Thats all.

[Boy]

"They were carrying you off?" At least there was some life in that tone. Even if it was a mixture of disbelief and worry, it was still better than the flat nothingness previously in his voice. "And...Liam stopped him." His shoulders hang heavy now as he stares at her bare top half. No, he was staring at that shoulder. Boy's eyes blink slowly. "He's really..."

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy nods her head, spindly fingers reaching to take hold of his upper arms and draw him close, should he allow it. A deep shuddering breath as the kin clings to her shock and numb horror, shaking her head violently, a squint as she pulls Boy closer and tries not to think about the frenzying spiral who'd stepped over her to kill Liam. Her voice a squeak, she murmurs.* I.. I don't know where they were going to take me. But.. thats why I'm n-not hurt. Liam got him f-first...

[Boy]

Should he allow it? Here was Boy. Here was he who took the name of a child when all the nation insisted he be a man. Here was he who wept openly, but only around those he trusted not to tell the world. Here was he who only ever wanted a family, and the love that came with it. The love he never got to have but only ever saw others receive. He doesn't allow her to draw him in. He surrenders to her. He gives himself completely to it, all but collapsing in her spindly arms. Holding her up in those battle-tested limbs while, somehow, he and the world on his shoulders rested onto her. And he sobs.

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy curls tight with a whimper of her own. Boy was crying, and now she was crying. They made some great stoic pair. The alpha and his skinny mate. His world crumbles for a time, and everything in hers realigns to keep him from shaking apart entirely. Pencil thin arms stuck with blood and sweater fuzz, wrapped around the Uktena like they could maybe, just maybe keep out the world for awhile. Her cheek presses against the top of his head as he sobs against her naked self.* Its not fair Boy. Its just not fair. *She blurts, tears wet against his her cheeks. Wendy's thoughts travelling dark places in the confines of their little room. It wasn't fair. But more importantly. It wasn't Boy. At least it wasn't Boy. She wasn't ever going to have to see Boy limp and lifeless like that on the street. She shakes her head, pushing the image of Liam from her mind with a hard swallow. No. *

[Boy]

Not fair. Not fair at all. But they were still here. They were still together. They could still hold each other in this world of flesh. And all because of Liam's... "...Sacrifice." Boy managed between sobs. "His sacrifice...should be...honored."

[Wendy Berber]

*An empathetic nod against Boy's skull as his mate clutches him tightly. Were she better with people she'd stroke his back. Sooth him until he was himself again, until the cut of grief was no longer as sharp and stinging. But Wendy wasn't good with people. Wendy was good with books and art and math problems and ghost stories, and she had no idea what to do with her sobbing young man but hold him, fingers clutching as though she's afraid he'd somehow break away, barge out of the house and find a way to swap places with the fallen coggie.*

[Boy]

And that would likely be where they stay, each holding on to the other, too afraid to let go, until sunrise found them. And likely beyond.

[Boy]

[Oh yeah, and they DO IT!]