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"But I taste good." he insisted with a devious little smirk he couldn't help, the sharp familiar tang of blood entertaining. Clearly hygiene as far as minor wounds went was relatively lost on Rep.

"So we don't know if there's any shield," he paused, distantly listening, "Tracey seems to think there is though." His frown deepened as he said "Just..not much. Its going to be ******** scary testing it out and hopefully non fatal." The sight of the bandage chilled him somewhat, the idea he was vulnerable proper, even to larger injuries than just that simple cut, that he was human again, was a horrifying prospect.

It had been okay to be normal before, he hadn't known how many things with fangs, claws and magic lay out there back then. He hadn't had so much to lose.

Testing it out - Jordan flinched from the prospect, the spray of blood replaying in his mind; the too-recent memory brought with it the painful shock of the net and the anguished fury of helplessness, and he looked away, swallowing hard.

Ferros drew back into himself, his presence retreating to the back of Jordan's mind.

Ferros?

I don't know, the dragon repeated, sounding confused and miserable and guilty. Leave me alone.

His weapon's anxiety tangled into the painful knot of emotion and confusion, and something in Jordan broke, just a little. "I'm going to go do a course," he said, his voice coming out hoarser than he'd intended. "I need some time to think."

Harrison nodded mutely.

He understood why Jordan wanted to run a course. Rep chattered casually, trying to act like what they'd done to him was alright, like he wasn't being sent in to fight lions without even the benefit of a wooden sword, but all that was left of his anger was a kind of fragile desperation.

In the room, he'd wanted to stab something. Now...

He needed Rep.

As he was being hauled, he immediately threw his own arms around Rep's neck, clutching him just as tightly. "Bastards," he said helplessly, "They're all bastards."

It was easy to put a casual indifferent mask on the situation when he was at a distance, but caught up in that hug it was almost impossible to pretend everything was the way it had been before the damn bracelet. They'd essentially taken away his independence, the one thing he'd relied on since his mother died. Without backup, chances were fairly high he'd be dead.

Being unable to pull his weight in a battle could get them hurt. Hurt for his stupidity. It was an awful thought. He needed the hug more than he realised.

He watched Jordan go with a sadness he couldn't place, hoping that he wasn't as upset as Rep's gut instincts seemed to insist he had been.

Burying his face against him, Rep murmured against the crook of Harrison's neck. "I wish they'd only punished me."

It was all wrong. There was something deeply upsetting to him about Harrison this worried, this rattled by anything at all. It was like the sahara when he'd been overwhelmed, was like when he'd found him in the haystack with no damn shield. It made him surprisingly angry at everyone else that he had to witness it, made him protective and clingy. He was filled with a desperate desire to simply set things right again, to bring back the jokes and the easiness.

The question occurred to him for a moment if this angry desire to fix everything was how moons felt all the time.

He wanted to take the damn bracelet off and throw it away, rebel and tell them to ******** themselves, but he knew that'd be a death sentence. Knowing the doctor, taking it off would have horrendous implications, more horrendous than a mere fatal injury.

So they were stuck, forced to simply deal with this.

"I know you won't," he said, voice still low and half muffled.

It wasn't flattery, it was an honest statement of belief. As selfish as it might have been to think that Harrison would somehow always have his back, it was simply how his mind worked. If anyone in all the world could defend him long enough to get Tracey back, it was him. He owed him his life many times over already, but as far as Rep was concerned, there was no moon better. Jordan would have to be his attack, Harrison his shield. It was an imposition, but one he intended to make up to them both any way he could.

Preferably firstly by surviving.

He reluctantly let the hug loosen, letting his hands drop to rest lightly on Harrison's hips, trailing possessive kisses up his neck as he tried to cast his thoughts ahead.

"I dunno how I'm going to get Sasha to give me the clearance for this weapon," he said, "Even though I really ******** need it." He sighed. "But so far I've managed to trip her up with a tray of ******** hot tea, and stolen her flute. I mean she's a doormat, but I dunno if she's going to fall for blackmail or flattery after that s**t. I'm going to have to turn on every bit of intimidation I've got."

"I don't think she's smart enough to know how to do real humiliating. " He found the idea of Sasha managing to come up with anything sufficiently scandalous or challenging to be humiliating for him frankly laughable. He knew humiliation. "Maybe I'll get off easy, maybe she'll want me to do something ******** lame like say I'm a fricken doo-doo head."

"She'll probably fold like laundry day and I won't need to worry about it." He could always hope. "If not though, whatever the ******** she throws at me I can handle."

He ran a hand along the dip of Harrison's back lazily. "Am I going to have to take you with me?," he said in almost a whisper, somewhere between teasing and earnestness "Because I will."

"Aye," he said "I think I'll feel a bit safer with something sharp and deadly in my hands." he'd been more comfortable with a knife pre-island for sheer reasons of machismo, these days he knew there were thing out there that could show up at any ******** time and murder him.

"Treating it as a priority. Cause I don't want to be dead weight in a surprise fight, and I doubt B0nez wants to share."

"Thanks B0nez, " he said, "Good to know in a pinch that there's at least some sort of option open to us to try."


<mine, I'm not replacing you, I'm working to keep us alive.>>

<>

He gave him a lingering look. "Yeah," he gave his hand a squeeze as he stepped back, "She could be anywhere."

Letting go entirely he turned to head back along the hall, still able to feel that lingering closeness of moments before. "If I was a little ******** sissy girl, where would I hide out?" he mused aloud.