[GRP] The Final Fear

[Snoofington]

(( Cruz -- Ronan, those leaving, whoever else is left over at the Med Station
Anita -- Troxel --> Iorek --> Med Station with Duncan, Cruz, and Ronan ))

The two flares broke the sudden and relative silence that surrounded them. Cruz felt like he'd been drowning in it until they sailed through the sky. He choked quietly, watching their trails until they fizzled. Everyone was starting to calm down. Disperse. Everyone was getting ready to leave. Picking up the pieces from that thing, whatever it was. It was gone now. People were calming down. One already left, though. In his current state, he might have thought Zeke left this world with Anya but his flesh was warm and he could feel the subtle pulse of his veins against his palm.

He was aware of the movement all around him but his head was swimming. It was like he'd been drowning in everyone else's fear and hurt and now he was too tired to swim to the surface -- all he could do was let himself float slowly towards it. His face wasn't contorted painfully any longer but the tears refused to stop. Keeping his eyes open was exhausting and his head was pounding. The rune normally bright in his half formed chest was dull and its cloud small but it'd been given a small boost thanks to Iorek's parting kiss to his forehead.

His green eyes fluttered weakly to Rivener as he got up and floated to where all the commotion had been happening shortly before there was more movement to his right. The frei didn't expect to be approached, at least not by someone he barely knew. He remembered the man from the bus ride but never caught his name. The kind gesture of his hand upon Cruz's shoulder, the sympathetic look despite his own haggard and beaten appearance. Ronan was injured and he was giving him comfort? Cruz hissed, his breath shuddering as he took a deep inhale and his face twisted with sadness all over again. He whined weakly, extending his arms and wrapping them around the selkie's shoulders as he pulled himself close. The blanket fell away from him but he didn't need it, human skin was warm enough to keep him comfortable despite the clammy feeling his body attained from the last kiss he gave Iorek. He was so lost. In all this chaos he was so small, insignificant, unhelpful. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to pet Tango's fur. Curl up on the couch with Anita and watch cartoons while she spoiled him with forehead kisses until he felt full. He wanted to sleep... but first he had to mourn. Mourn everyone.


There was a tight lump stuck in Anita's throat. She couldn't bring herself to talk, just attempting to swallow it down. With how difficult crying made normal breathing, she kept huffing and occasionally coughing while trying to regain her composure. Trox was right, she needed to head back over to the med station and he probably had something he wanted to do so she forced herself to release his hand and move on.

Everything about this situation was unusual for her. The tears, losing her cool, clinging to Trox's hand for dear life, wanting to pull Eiry into a hug. She stumbled a little while approaching but lifted her head, taking notice of the gargoyle frei. When she locked eyes with him she paused, staring blankly. Emotions welled up again. He was coming over to check on them all after he'd tended to Cruz and Zeke. Huffing, she took several more quick steps and pulled the frei into a hug. She hadn't seen him since the first time he and Cruz were introduced and not one prior but Cruz had been worried enough about him in particular to shout, to cry, and rush to his side. She sniffled and pulled back fairly quick, giving his shoulders a stiff pat and smiling awkwardly through her tears which made her expression look so torn.

"It's okay now," she assured him and stepped away. He, too, likely had an agenda and she didn't want to interfere with it now that things were safe.

She hadn't realized Troxel was bringing up the rear or that Iorek followed as she made a bee line for the med station. Her eyes sought Cruz and she stifled another choked sound when she found him getting comforted by Ronan. Anita stopped in a quiet daze before Duncan, not looking at him until he spoke. Her face was still red and tear streaked, eyes puffy and irritated with a light glassy coat. It was difficult for her to make any expression without her face trying to twist emotionally but each time she was quick to pull it back. Sniffling, she nodded and wiped her face again before her hand rested beneath the wound on her right upper arm. She'd almost forgotten about it, her entire face feeling just as sore. It was a thin gash, wrapping horizontally at a crooked angle, but it bled plenty. Anita hadn't realized how much, several deep red streaks dripping all the way past her wrist, but they were thin as well and she was in no danger of fainting.

"Thanks..." she tried to laugh at Duncan's mention of Cruz but it sounded pathetic. Not dragging it out, she positioned herself so her wound could be cleaned and examined. It took about that time for the dull sound of chopper blades to alert the helicopter's arrival and, before long, everyone's hair was getting whipped around and it was difficult to hear anything else. The most heavily wounded were loaded in first, several of the Raevans departing along with those unconscious. Once Duncan finished assisting with her injury, Anita managed to calm into a state of complacency but it seemed her desire for comfort was still high as she pulled the older man into a hug as well. She offered him several whispered thank yous, nudging his shoulder with her forehead before parting and moving over to Cruz. He was still clinging to Ronan for dear life and the sight of him still a sobbing mess made her feel weak, sending her to her knees beside them. Anita was so tired and done with all of this. Only paying enough mind to make sure she didn't cause Ronan anymore pain from his injuries, she wrapped one arm around each of their shoulders and pulled them in, hanging her head so it rested softly against Cruz's. One of the croc's arms immediately pulled around her neck and shoulders too but he still clutched Ronan, the three of them stuck in a strange group huddle.  

[Storei]

(Eiry --> Anita, mentions to others)

Still holding his arms wide, doing whatever he could physically to block the sight of the evil eye, Eiry narrowed his gaze at Melisande, who still struggled and fought with Anita, but as much as he didn't want to watch, he couldn't look away. To be honest, he was horrified that she would be so stubborn to throw herself away. Couldn't she realize that she would be making things worse, that those who loved her would be hurt in turn by one reckless motion? When Trox turned to Eiry and compelled him to the first aid group, the ghostly frei shook his head and tightened his lips. He would not move, not until the eye had been taken care of. Suspicious that Meli, or any other raevan, would try and make a move again the wisp raevan stayed where he was and only briefly glanced away when Jeremy finally came his way. Finally...! he thought, finally someone is coming! Eiry, exhausted and hopeful, lowered his defenses and allowed the man to pass. He wouldn't need any help, and Eiry, not wanting to exasperate the situation made sure to keep his eyes averted as his back turned, watching distrustfully over the conscious raevans. Behind him, though, he could hear Jeremy's movements and feel the disturbance in the air, the swelling power and the eventual draining of the eye's essence into the glass vial he had seen glint earlier in his hands. It was only when he saw the shadow tendrils whip and struggle and eventually fade away, that Eiry dared to lower his arms and then back away , looking nervously around his shoulder. What was left was Kyou's unnaturally preserved and devastated body, with Jeremy crouching over him,a black velvet bag in his hand. It was done.

Like an overfilled balloon, the stress that had been welling up in Eiry's chest finally popped, and from the moment he looked upon the good Doctor's prone form, he couldn't care any less about being strong. He tried to make a sound, some form of gratitude to be given to Jeremy, but he couldn't speak much more than that. Instead, he looked on in quiet shock, still finding it hard to believe that now, for real this time, the nightmare was over. He let go. Starting from the pit from which all this despair and rage and other such miserable feelings emerged like those faded away roots of black, Eiry let them take over himself from his stomach. They crawled up his ribs and strangled his heart, and his shoulders began to bounce with every growing hiccup and sob that crawled free from their cage. Every sound of grief he had swallowed before was now spilling out of Eiry as if he were some fountain. The grief and the terror was over, but for Eiry, the trauma of dealing with what he had done, the secrets that he had spilled, the relationships that he might have ruined in favor of protecting their lives, had now come crashing down on Eiry's conscience, and he looked around, regretting his participation in this terrible rescue. Maybe it would have been better had he not come. Perhaps Rivener wouldn't have been so hurt. Perhaps they could still be....No, who was he kidding. He didn't deserve anything after what he had done. He had failed in his attempts to be useful, to make friendships. He had failed and instead made even more enemies for himself.

Letting that grief overtake him, Eiry released sounds of his grief with great chest-wracking sobs, letting his arms and his wings drip uselessly beside his body as he drifted away from his post. Through his glossy lens of tears, the wispy raevan only briefly glanced at Anita who was beckoning him forward to her as she took steps towards the make-shift infirmary. However, Eiry did not rush to her. He would have, and this was evident in his pained expression, but he would not move closer to Melisande and to Rivener. He had made enemies of them, he was sure, and he was too embarrassed and too hurt to make the move towards her or Cruz whose voice he could pick out just barely above the din of the others. He was reluctant, and he was scared, despite the nature of the horror that passed. He didn't want to face these people again. He knew what they thought of him. While desperately wanting to claim that hug from Anita, Eiry instead moved away, and when he found Meli moving forward for Kyou, the ghost raevan floated away, still tripping over his own breath as he drifted towards the opposite side of the cliff to express his weariness and grief. There, he turned away, and instead focused on the depths of the cliff beneath its edge. It didn't seem as deep as the pain centralized in his chest.  

[Twintastic]

((Basil --> Mentions of Duncan + Others --> OUT))

Basil wasn't sure at what point things got just a little bit weird.

He remembered tugging at Lazarus' arms. Growing increasingly desperate as the storm built around them. The gun-fire. The haphazard attempts to organize their suffering.

Lazarus wouldn't budge. His arms would barely even give. A sense of imminent danger was mounting. A strong compulsion to look into The Eye, simply because he knew he had to avoid it. A strong compulsion to run away and not look back. He couldn't do this. He couldn't hold out. Why wasn't Laz moving?

The world began to flicker around him in stop-motion. One moment he was holding onto Lazarus' arms. Pulling. The next his arms were numb. There was a flicker of the blazing eye with its slitted pupil. Too much like the cat's eye. Like the panther's eye. Too much like a violent and bloody gash. He was on the ground next. He breathed in the mist, and it had no scent. It was stale and cold in his lungs, sucking the warmth out of them, until he started to smell pennies.

Next he was up again. The people around him were life-sized still-frames, moving a second at a time. He clearly heard their voices, but it was as though he'd lost the ability to understand English. It was all just noise. Backed by a high, tinny sound. Like an Emergency Broadcast. He saw the world through gauzy layers of gray. Lost in the chaos.

He turned around again to see Jeremy. Forcing himself to the front. Assuming a stance of power with a book held in front of him. Challenging The Eye and the evil it stood for.

The noise he heard grew higher and higher. His head growing heavier and heavier. Until finally, he went somewhere else.

show spoilerhide spoiler

--
Wherever Basil was, it was white and infinite.

That word seemed to carry special emphasis. Infinite.

The first thing he noticed was an intense silence. Like a room in the attic of a giant mansion, far away from the inhabited parts of the house. He didn't like it. It felt terribly lonely.

The second thing he noticed, was that wherever he was, he was the sole inhabitant. A private universe where he was somehow standing upright with no ground beneath him. It was a dramatic change of pace from the calamity he had just escaped, which did nothing to relax him. Too much chaos could be just as bad as too much nothingness.

He feared that maybe he had gone blind again, but that didn't seem correct. Before, it had all been dark and contained, and no matter where he was, his hearing was able to paint a picture of the place he might be. Blindness had just been a physical limiter on his ability to perceive the world around him. Here, there wasn't any world at all, and he had every ability to perceive it in its naked state.

It was intimidating to move in a limitless space. With no landmarks for reference. Nothing to suggest you had gone one step, or ten miles. No weather, no temperature. No light source, no shadows. He ventured a few steps. Little ones that soon gained in confidence. Was it possible to get lost when you were nowhere?

He wanted to try his voice, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He got the sense that speaking would give his presence a legitimacy he wasn't ready to handle. It would give him visibility in this world. Alert the attention of whatever forces had made it possible, but had conveniently forgotten to include the laws of physics. Maybe his voice would shatter the world. Maybe it would come out so loud his head would explode. There were a lot of if's.

Suddenly his breath hitched. He saw a blip of something on the ground, which didn't make sense because there was no ground. It looked like a flash of a shadow. There and gone in a second, like the white circle you sometimes see in a roll of old film. He looked up, his heart starting to pound. There was nothing. He turned around, disoriented in the silence. He didn't hear anything. Didn't see anything.

He turned again, and felt his heart drop out of his body.

It was the Sphinx. Only it wasn't the Sphinx...

He blinked, and her tawny brown fur turned black and smooth as India ink. Her proud eagle wings became vulture's wings, sick-looking and degraded. The feathers moulted away in curling black petals of ash, revealing naked and sinewy stumps underneath. Like ugly red fingers. But the worst was her face. Her horrible woman's face. Genie's face. Cadaverous and skull-like with big clicking teeth like a horse's. Her eyes were sunken and white and empty. Like someone had erased them off, leaving two barren voids that petrified him. He tried to scream, but the only thing that came out was a toad. A slimy mass pushing out of his throat. The head poking out of his mouth like the breaching head of a fetus. He saw its rotted eyes. Its yellow-brown body vomiting out. Slapping on the floor that didn't exist.

He shut his eyes tight, eliminated by white blind terror. He covered his head defensively with his arms. Put his hands over his eyes. His body was gripped with convulsions. His mind turned to mush. No words. No sentences. No cultivated thoughts. Only a raw, unrefined sensation of revulsion and denial.

Then, he heard a familiar voice.

"Took you long enough."

It felt like a trick. He didn't want to, but couldn't fight the strong compulsion to see what it was. He took a few minutes to work himself up to it, then peeked cautiously through the spaces of his trembling fingers. Slowly at first. When he opened them completely, the Sphinx was gone, and so was the toad. Only The Other. A torso floating at a gentleman's distance on a plain white backdrop. Basil didn't know if he could trust what he was seeing anymore. He didn't know what was real.

The Other was sensitive to his skepticism.

"Well you could be a little happy to see me."

Basil couldn't help staring. This was the first clear look he'd ever had of The Other. The first truly accurate representation of the presence he shared his life with.

Although for all intents and purposes identical to Basil's, The Other's face had different lines and shadows in it. The way the same suit might look flattering on one man, and comically baggy on another. It was a bit thinner and more severe, with the motionless eyes of a painting. He had a high forehead that implied intelligence, and hair cropped closely to the scalp in a way that was vaguely regal. Like a young Caesar without his laurels.

Basil didn't know what he looked like, or how The Other saw him to be. For all he knew, he was just a brain on a stick, or a talking rabbit, or a nebulous cloud of gas. He ventured in a small voice, "Am I... dead?"

Did he do it? Back in the jungle? Oh God, did he really cut his ******** throat? He didn't mean it...

The Other laughed, and it did not have the good humor of an actual laugh. It was hollow and punctuating. Just air being pushed out.

"No," He said patently, "this is Inside."

He glanced from side to side, as though in afterthought, "Well, sort of. Someday I'll have to explain it better." Basil nodded slowly in numb agreement, but also a total lack of understanding. His confusion and relief clawed at each other for supremacy, until resigning themselves to coexistence. Okay, so he wasn't dead.

"And... it's really you?" He asked in a color of suspicion.

"Mhmm." A simple affirmation.

"Where is everybody? What happened to Laz... And the Doctor. And... everybody?"

"I wouldn't worry about that just now."

Basil wasn't satisfied with that answer. He narrowed his eyes. Forced himself to ask. "...What was that thing I saw a minute ago?"

A shrug, "You tell me. I certainly didn't put it there."

There was a pause after that. It felt like they had just settled something, but Basil wasn't sure what it was. He had a lot more questions, but his interest was stymied by The Other's blasé attitude to all this. Like he was already bored of the subject and any question Basil might have, he should already know the answer to.

But Basil didn't know. His thoughts were slow to process. His mind couldn't touch the reality of finally having exactly what he wanted, because none of this seemed based in reality... He felt like any moment he'd wake up from some bizarre dream. Or worse, snap out of a vivid hallucination and find out he'd been talking to himself in a bus station like some crazy wino.

He couldn't trust himself to feel happy. It was made very clear to him that "happy" was not necessarily a reliable or safe place to be, and neither was this moment.

A few minutes passed in silence.

"...I was watching you out there," The Other offered.

Basil looked at him.

His brother nodded, with just the faintest trace of a smile, "You did good."

For an instant, Basil was stunned. Regardless of whether The Other was real or not, if any of this was real or not, those three words had impact. They made him think of himself as a survivor for the very first time. An identity that came with certain implications of bravery and fortitude he wasn't sure he could accept. The threat of tears prickled the back of his throat. He couldn't take credit. He didn't do a damn thing except stay alive. It was all stupid luck. He tried to find words to disprove The Other, but found his throat had closed to the size of a pinhole. His eyes were cloudy with moisture. He was so tired of running...

Suddenly The Other's voice was very near. It chuckled with a startled stab at sincerity, "No, really! You did... Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are."

Basil wiped the wet streaks from his cheeks. "No..." He said feebly. A reply with no more power or usefulness than a child's jump-rope rhyme.

"Basil."

He looked up, and was surprised to see an openness in The Other's posture. An inviting space between his ribs and elbows. His hands held apart as if measuring the length of something. There was a patient resignation in his face that implied it was not so much of an offer, as it was permission granted, and maybe just a little something more.

Basil easily accepted, his arms sliding around The Other's back, closing the distance between their bodies. "Nobody was asking you to be a hero. You should be proud..." The hug became urgent. For the first time he realized that The Other was taller than him, and somehow his arms weren't quite long enough. He gripped a fistful of The Other's shirt, squeezing his eyes shut. Letting the realization settle over him. That what he was feeling was real and profound. He was somebody's little brother again.

As if reading his mind, he felt a protective hand on the back of his head. A dull warmth and pressure radiating into his scalp. I'm so glad you're okay.

Both of them exhaled hard as if putting down a great weight, and Basil's heart strummed with notes of relief and forgiveness and clarity.

He could have lost this forever. Nobody got second chances like this. He was the luckiest person on earth.

They stayed that way awhile, basking in their wholeness, until The Other had decided he'd had enough. Their eyes met briefly in a funny moment of, 'okay, that's enough of that.'

His hands still rested on Basil's shoulders, like a master to his protégé, and soon he fetched a deep, long sigh."Let's go home."

Basil nodded, a bit quickly.

The Other looked around the infinite white space with the casual scrutiny of an architect. As though looking for the perfect place to carve a doorway. "Well, you got us this far. I think you can handle taking us the rest of the way. I'll be waiting right here if you need me."

If you need me. Basil had liked the sound of that, but was incredulous about the rest. He remembered the world out there having a lot of commotion in it. A lot of pain. He remembered being dizzy, like he could actually feel the earth turning on its axis. Turning and turning and turning, until he had just... fallen off. Ended up here. Jumping back on felt like trying to catch a speeding train. The Other made it sound so easy...

Basil followed his eyes around the space, wondering if he could see something he didn't. There were no walls, no floor, no ceiling, and no horizon. Nothingness in all directions. Even here, it seemed a little farfetched.

He frowned, "How?"

And just then, right at the moment he was caught most off-guard, The Other pushed his shoulders, hard, a smirk spreading over his face. Basil fell backwards into the void. Tumbling over a ledge he didn't know he was standing on. Riding the spike of shock that comes just before panic. Only he didn't panic. He woke up.
--

He woke up to find Duncan leaning over him. Whispering his name. Trying to shake him gently into consciousness. His eyes were bleary and searching as he slipped his arm around the older man's neck, allowing himself to be hoisted upright, where he was instantly struck by the worst headache he was sure he had ever felt in his life.

He could float under his own power, but was not quite ready for Duncan to take away his support. His first impulse was to ask what had happened, but felt the words dry up in his mouth before he could even summon the breath. Duncan had oriented their bodies, so that the two of them could watch as the Doctor was lifted onto a steel gurney. The eye was gone. The darkness was gone. But Jeremy stood by. Looking every inch of his sixty years, and then some. Basil couldn't believe his eyes.

He looked so fragile.

For a moment, he honestly wondered if he was looking at a dead man, until he saw a paramedic slide an oxygen mask over his ravaged, sunken face.

That was him. That brittle husk was the man who'd made him. It didn't seem possible.

Fortunately Duncan had the decency to turn them away when he sensed Basil's body start to go limp. He attempted to walk the Cobra to the nurse's station, but was met instantly with resistance. Basil wasn't sick, and he wasn't hurt. He was just... shocked.

He didn't expect this. For his feelings to run so deep for a man he'd never even met. A man he didn't even know he wanted to meet until very recently. He forced himself to continue watching as three people guided the gurney to a helicopter with loud turning blades. His eyes winced against the rising dust, and his hair flapped wildly in the air current. His heart went with them. Into the sinking sun.

("He'll be fine.") The voice told him. Basil shut his eyes. More than a little relieved to know that that part hadn't all been a dream.

("Help is coming. Find somewhere to rest until it's time to go. There's nothing left for you to do.")

Basil looked around. "What about Laz? ...And Jeremy? I have to talk to them."

("Don't worry about them.")

"They're my team..." He whispered.

("We're a team. They found him, the mission is over. There is no Team C anymore. You only have to look out for yourself now.")

His eyes slowly swept over the blurry faces of the others. All of these other Raevans who'd been united under the same cause and the same creator.

He wanted to be a part of it. To feel some sense of community and solidarity. To walk up to his choice of anyone and say, I'm a Raevan and you are too. You've never met me. You don't even know my name. But we're family. And families are supposed to grieve together...

It was the only way any of this would feel like a happy ending. The only way any of this would seem worth it...

He frowned. "I never got to tell Laz I was sorry... Or thank him for helping me."

("There'll be time for that.") The voice said. ("There'll be a tomorrow, and a day after that, and a day after that. But for now, the best thing you can do, is just sit down, and wait. There's still a long way to go...")
 

[kyoupi]

(( Laz --> Xiu --> Mentions others -> BYE ))

The longest, deepest night cleared into a beautiful dusk, there was relief everywhere as the malice is finally gone. People finally breaking down their strong shell and started weeping, the screaming stopped as people awaken from their nightmares. The chaos was gone, and what was left were relief, grief and exhaustion. However for Lazarus, it was like nothing changed at all, he was still stuck in that nightmarish darkness as he slowly approached the tip of the cliff, where Kyou is.

He was afraid, he stopped in his tracks as Melisande approached, singing a beautiful tune to bring Kyou back. But there was no response as the man remained unconscious. Beautiful as it was, it did not soothe the Sigel's heart either. Reaching down, he tried to find something, someone to grip to, and he found Xiu's beside him. His fingers gripped the other's tightly, as if it would bring him courage to go forward. He wanted to see Kyou, so, so bad, but at the same time he was afraid of seeing him, not at that state. He wasn't sure how he would react...

Taking an audible gulp, his lips stretched into a thin line as his expression harden, finally gathered enough courage, and he went up to Kyou as Pasha moved off. As he take in the full sight of Kyou however, his grip tighten around Xiu's hand. Kyou was practically just skin and bones, an after effect of being stranded here for weeks, tortured by nightmares endlessly. His face was wrinkled, sunken, and his skin was so pale, an ashen color. The blood on his face and arm had long since dried and turned into a filthy mud color, and there were even fungus and spores growing on his clothing.

Lazarus wanted to look away, his brain was screaming at him to divert his eyes, but he just... couldn't. Emotions he never knew he had before welled up inside his chest, spreading to every nerve in his body, his whole body was shuddering as he felt overwhelmed. His chest felt heavy, and his eyes felt warm, but no tears were shed.

In the dimming dusk light, Lazarus let go of Xiu's hand and bent low, retrieving the broken glasses and the fel essence compass that belonged to Kyou. He will bring them back, he will bring everything back. Hugging them close to his chest, he turned to look at Kyou again and reached out to hold his hand. It felt so cold... so lifeless. But he knew Kyou is still alive, still fighting. At that moment, nothing else mattered in the world anymore. He paid no heed to anyone in his surroundings as he looked at Kyou. He is still alive, there is still hope...

The helicopter arrived soon after, and the paramedics hauled Kyou up in a rescue basket once he is safely strapped on. Lazarus had requested to be on board and was let on, along with Rivener and a few other people that needed medical attention more direly, such as Ronan, Zeke, Anya, Cruz and Anita.

It will take a few trips to carry everyone back to the village, and the process will likely take some time. Jeremy said that he will stay back and made sure everyone safely left before he too would leave. He said he felt that it was his responsibility to see everyone off safely. Lazarus felt like they couldn't leave soon enough...  

[Rapidashtrainer]

((Xiu -> Laz -End)

With the Eye gone, Xiu could feel the strain and tension seeping out of the air. Those plagued with nightmares were starting to awaken and the feeling of fear and panic was subsiding. There was an almost audible sigh of relief when the first flare was fired to call for the helicopter.

But was it truly over? Xiu could feel Lazarus’s anxiety as the fiery Sigel approached his lifeless guardian. The Sigel Meli was singing but the words were lost to Xiu as he followed Lazarus to where the Doctor lay. If it had not been for Lazarus’s grip on his hand, Xiu would not have approached the Doctor. He felt that he had no right...

It was a miracle that the Doctor was still alive. Shrunken, pallid and mud encrusted, the Doctor was less than a shadow of his former self. It was then that Lazarus released his hold and Xiu took a step back. It felt cowardly and yet Xiu could not imagine himself doing otherwise. Watching Lazarus bend low to pick up the shards of a broken glass Xiu felt a stab of pain that was almost physical. It wasn’t right... after all that Lazarus had been through...after all everyone had been through...

Where was the happy ending?

Lazarus had relapsed into a state of sullen silence and seemed impervious to his surroundings; choosing only to remain with his guardian until the helicopter arrived to take them away.

Sustaining relatively few wounds himself, Xiu could only watch as Lazarus (along with several others who were badly hurt) got onto the first flight out. It would be several hours until it was his turn to ride the helicopter and by then, Lazarus had left with the ambulance to attend to the hurt Doctor.  

[Aki Ana]

((Melisande -> Exit))

As much as she wanted to ride out with the Doctor, he was in capable hands. He was with those actually educated in the healing arts, unlike herself, no matter how much Harrison had insisted to the contrary. Melisande pushed back her worry and waited, watching the helicopter with Cesc, Rivener, and Kyou depart. The helicopter with everyone she...

...everyone she cared about.

The Muse was shaking. She tucked her wings in tight, ignoring the flash of pain, and watched the transport dwindle to a speck. She wasn't the only one watching, she realized distantly. Pasha glanced sidelong at Xiu, and silently empathized with his painful vigil.

The last transport couldn't come soon enough.