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A hand, thin and shaking, slide under the fall of her curls to rest at the nape of her neck, and for one brief fleeting second she thought it was the man from the memories. But that was a fool's hope. That man wasn't here, had never been here. She wasn't sure where the knowledge came from, but she knew she had not seen him for some time, and that she likely never would again.

Coyote waited to feel shock, surprise, anger, or relief at Amity's offered touch, but nothing came. She just felt hallow, and when she turned and looked up at him over her shoulder that reflected in those wide, pale eyes. There was no spark, no eagerness or curiosity. Not even bitterness.

Her own small hand came up, dainty fingers curling loosely along his. Accepting that comforting gesture and holding onto it as long as he maintained it. But she knew, he'd spent the whole of their existence in this placing teaching her, that it wouldn't linger. That he wouldn't linger. He would leave, like he always had, without a goodbye, without so much as a second glance, because no matter what memories she carried of him, hadn't been given the same.

She was a step up from the rest of them, something familiar, that he could return to at his convenience. More then simply a face int eh crowd, but not by much.

And he.. He was the nagging memory of comforting arms and the murmur of a soft, rough voice. The scent of cigarette smoke, the taste of grilled cheese and tomato soup, and the amusing flicker of a wobbling little tower of bricks and sloppy star scribbled on the back of a thin, shaking hand..

Her smile faltered when he admitted that he didn't know what love was. But his description, it saved her from despair. She felt the same urges he did, every time she was near him. That was why they were double friends. That was why she wouldn't let go of his hand until the end. Unless..

She knew she was incomplete. Fayre wasn't a fool - she could tell the difference between him, and her.. he would be complete, one day. She had barely scratched the surface; she was a phantom, a shadow following in his footsteps, hoping for one more moment to feel as real as he did. One kiss, one hug, one more fight at his side. She could make believe, then. She could make believe she was real, too.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as the decision came to her. "Then I love you. Or I could have. If I had been enough. I think I know what I want, now, but I don't know if I can have it." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Can I just stay here, Tiletk? There isn't much of me. I could just.. be a part of you. And then you would be more, you would be whole again. And you could move on."

It felt nice to lie there, and imagine herself melting away into him. She was sure if she just kept trying, she would certainly fade away.

He let her touch his hand, because he didn't figure it mattered much now.

And when Rojand showed up, he just looked at him with a stare that didn't understand.

"No," he said. "Hurting was important." Done now. Out of the way. Bundle it up and trade it for silencing the horrible hungry questions.

His eyes slipped from Rojand to the back of Coyote's head, and he gave her fingers a squeeze and then, just like she'd expected, her left her, left both of them, because he had things to do and sacrifices to make.

Rojand nodded a little to himself, not taking offense, and gave Coyote a small smile before he turned and padded back over to where Reap and Ironshare stood together. He hesitated only a moment before moving to put his arms lightly around both of them.

Iron heard his name (not his real name).

He didn't have to choose.

Not now. Not just yet.

He drew away from the demands. He'd wanted to be somewhere. The Ruins. That was where they started, where they always met back. He was still clutching his chest. He had a name.

"Yeah," he said softly, turning at the pressure, and wrapping his arms around Reap's back, pressing their hearts close a final time. "We'll stand. It's been you, hasn't it? We're-" The emotions and memories all jumbled up together.

"Where's-?" He looked over Reap's shoulder, for Rojand, and he knew, he remembered, the important parts and pieces. He took Reap's hand again, and this time instead of dragging him under the shelter of a building, he took them both to Rojand's arms, and his heart was so full, and it fluttered and spun next to Rojand's and Reap's.

"They gave us hearts," he says, "and they want them back. It was theirs in the first place. All these...colors, and add-ons." He rested his forehead in Rojand's collar, and his hand moved to Reap's hair, to pull his head close.

"The memories, that's not from them. Those are ours."

She bit him and he didn't object. Something about the act was endearing and even reminiscent of something he couldn't quite recall - it was the first time she'd ever done this to him, this he was sure of. The word she growled out only set him to laughing with light amusement as he leaned and kissed the back of her neck, light and gentle. A gesture of one last affection before they moved onward.

"Yes," he grinned more wildly now, "this is our next adventure."

It was easier to think of it as an adventure and not a sacrifice. It was easier to move forward when he didn't have to ponder on the acts ahead. Thus Tiletk moved forward with Fayre, letting the urgency finally over take him as they approached the door together.

His hand went up to his core, the one thing he wanted to give to Fayre alone but now he had to sacrifice it to make himself better for Fayre. How an act that could end him would make him better was far behind him. Only the powers greater than him would know.

Together they would go through the door and to their next adventure.

Reap nodded against him, inhaling deeply, regardless if there were scents or not in this world, it was close and familiar. "Aye." He said calmly. Yes to all the unspoken things, all the things he knew were there and that had to be true given the memories, however fleeting.

He needed the hug more than he knew how to articulate, exhausted mentally and simply needing that point of reassurance and stability. And he agreed with Iron in that too, ultimately their memories were their own. "And they'll persist because of that." he murmured, leaning against them both.

And doubt surfaced. "Where will you go?" he said, holding back the spike of worry that gripped him as he cast his gaze once more towards red, to where he knew the power lay for those daring enough to take it. "Because I feel like I know where I should."

Fayre stepped through the door, her hand still tightly gripping Tiletk's, until her eyes fell on the goddesses. There was something about simply looking into each of their eyes, those same eyes that had taken away memories - and the same that let her re-live them, if only for a moment.

She dropped Tiletk's hand.

Fayre's dim blue glow turned even dimmer, as she curled in upon herself. She couldn't remember Tiletk's face in any of them. The only faces she remembered now were the men who'd hurt her. The men she'd hurt. The faces of pain. Her pain. Her scissors.

She tried to push them all away. She wanted none of them. Not one. She couldn't breathe-

"Tiletk." She whispered. "It has to be quick."

Whatever they were here to do, they had to do it now. She wanted an end; she wanted the bliss of ignorance back.

She fell upon the gold pedestal, her legs shaking until they could no longer hold her. She put her hand against her chest, and her fingernails dug into the black, ichor oozing with each careful push, until all of it was in her hands. All of that faint, glowing blue.

The relief was immediate.

Her hands gave up her heart so quickly, that when she turned to whisper a final goodbye to the man who'd brought her here, it was already too late. Something in her eyes, as they faded away, tried to tell him how she felt. But there was little too nothing left of her to express, anymore.