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Julien stood outside the guest room for several moments, listening to the sounds of Toulouse getting ready for bed. Tomorrow was another day, and things would be happier, he knew it. Rubbing the back of his neck, the teen padded to his room to dig out some pajamas, foregoing the shirt in favor of just a pair of dark green drawstring pants, the thin linen soft against his skin. Odd, how he was feeling tired, too, as though the fight had drawn all the energy out of him. A shower, and then he'd turn in, and maybe he could be up early enough to make Toulouse a surprise breakfast to make up for things...



The air was turning chill, the first flurries of snow dusting the ground and decorating the leaves and bark of the trees. "I love this time of year," he murmured, and heard the answering laugh of his lover agreeing.

"Sachairi, you say you love everything," his lover said, and Sachairi nodded, eyes soft as he leaned back into his lover's arms. He could feel the strength of those arms around him, holding him close as they looked out at the last colors of autumn fading from the countryside. The air felt sharp and crisp, the scent of apples and fires floating through their woods, almost too faint to be detected. But they weren't so very far from the human's domain... the taint was there, though Sachairi considered it a meld, not a taint. "Another few days, and I'll have to wrap you up tight just to keep you warm," the redhead said, voice low and teasing as his hand came up to tease against the soft skin of Sachairi's throat.

"Then you'll enjoy unwrapping me in our home," he pointed out impudently, silver-pale eyes smirking as he twisted abruptly away, dancing on light feet through the woods. "You love this time of year, too, and you know it. It's like you get a gift every night," he teased, the two of them too lost in their fun to pay attention to the crackle of branches nearby, or the rustle of leaves under solid feet. "You like peeling away layer on layer," Sachairi added, leaning back against the rough bark. He opened his mouth to say more when two meaty hands grabbed him from behind, jerking him off his feet to land heavily on the forest floor beneath. As Sachairi gasped for breath, he could see his lover lash out at the human who'd attacked, could hear the thud of fist hitting flesh. Through the distant ringing in his ears, he heard his lover shout to run, and that's what he did, rolling to his side and scrambling to his feet. His lover was a fighter, agile and strong, and quicker than panting breath. He'd escape once Sachairi was safe... he knew it.

Heart pounding in his chest, he flew through the forest, stopping only once his barely recovered breath failed again. His chest was burning with lancing fire, arms wrapped tight around himself as he listened with oversharp ears to the sounds of the woods around him. There was no hint of his lover, no familiar sounds or comforting words, and Sachairi blanched as reason began to push through the adrenaline. He'd fled... he'd left his lover to the savage brutality of that human and fled like a coward... and he had to get back. He could heal whatever had been done he told himself, ignoring the burning stitch in his side and the way his eyes watered with the push past endurance. He could get to his lover and he could heal him, and together, they would be safe from that human...

Just as he felt he could take no more, body bruised and breathless, and tears tracking down his cheeks so fast his vision was blurred, just when he'd broken through the brush upon them once more, it was over. It wasn't a meaty hand that caught his lover off-guard. It was Sachairi himself, the way he burst in, crying out the redhead's name, that caused the distraction, allowing the heavy wooden club to connect hard with his skull. Blood spilled out, flooding the ground as Sachairi screamed, the sound high and thin. Not dead... he couldn't heal dead!

He tried to rush forward, but there were those hands again, thick and heavy and grabbing his wrist as he ran, jerking him back to slam him hard against the trunk of the tree. He couldn't even squeak as the bark hit him hard, scratching his back as he slid down. All he could see was shadows and air, and red mingled with brown and white. It filled his vision, swam there even when his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth shaping soundless nonsense as he pleaded for things to change, for time to reverse...

Julien woke with a soundless scream, mouth open and breath harsh in the midnight air as he stared into the darkness, shaking. He felt cold, shocky and in pain, hands fisting against the sheets that covered him, offering no warmth to ward off the chill that seemed to reside deep inside him. Almost as soon as he registered them, they were confining, bonds he fought with vicious abandon, tears tracking down his cheeks as he tumbled from his bed in an attempt to be free of the sheets, crawling away from them as he tried to catch his breath. No...

In the darkness, the bits of cloth were ignorable, but Toulouse wasn't. Julien looked into his eyes, seeing a bright sapphire blue for a moment and jerking away before sense began to return, and the blue faded into the darkness, covered over by it until it was just his imagination that had shaken him so. Kicking the last of the covers away from his legs, he panted for several moments, staring at Toulouse in shaken horror, then dropped his head into his hands.

"...The light," he croaked softly, the words muffled against his palms. "Hit the light. It's too dark." Far too dark, really, for he could still see everything as vividly as though it were painted over the very darkness, and the vision kept him from calming.

The light on served to banish the worst of the images, and Julien relaxed faintly. "I...," he whispered softly, then shook his head, looking up into Toulouse's golden face and seeing the worry there. That helped to push more of the horrible memories away, and he lifted a hand again, scrubbing viciously at his eyes, until the skin was pink from his tending. For all his apparent calm, Julien felt somehow hollow, half-broken and shaken, his body quivering under Toulouse's touch.

"It was nothing," he managed, his voice a ghost of itself as he shook his head. "A nightmare. Just a nightmare." Eyes drooping half-closed, he drew his legs up, pillowing his cheek on bony knees for a moment before letting them slit open again. Something bright caught at the edge of his sight, the color registering before the item did, and the returning color drained from his face. He held very still for a moment, not even daring to breathe. And then he was up, pushing past Toulouse as he stumbled and scrabbled for the door, flinging it open to dash to the bathroom.

It was a miracle he made it to the toilet in time to be very, very sick into it.

Julien finally sagged back, sitting on the floor as he stared blankly at the white porcelain for a long minute before looking up at Toulouse. His eyes were distant, pained and blank. "It's not," he whispered quietly. "Not really. He died because of me." The words were soft, carefully devoid of emotion.

After a long minute, Julien pushed himself up, moving to the sink to splash some water on his face before grabbing the toothbrush and toothpaste. As he covered the bristles with the paste, he looked over at Toulouse. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to deal with all this."

Julien spat out the toothpaste, staring blankly in the mirror for a long moment as bits of white foam clung to his lips before he rinsed his mouth and looked over at Toulouse. There was a terrible sadness in his eyes as he held out a hand to help Toulouse up. "Thank you," he whispered, offering a weak half-smile as he thought about it.

"I don't... really know exactly what happened," he added, closing his eyes. "I know what my dream said... I know that I caused the distraction that got him killed. I... could feel something inside me break at the thought, Toulouse."

Julien tensed for a moment at the hug, his immediate desire to pull free feeling horribly unnatural. But it faded quickly, and after a moment his arms went around Toulouse in turn, clinging to the blond as he nestled his own face into the join of neck and shoulder. "I won't give this up," he whispered softly, feeling his heart break a little more as red hear swam behind closed eyelids. "I was reborn to set this to rights. I know it."

After a moment, he stepped back, cheeks still pale but resolve in his eyes. "If I was reborn, maybe so was he. I just have to find him," he decided. Something sharpened in his mind, a sense of purpose settling over him as he began to smile. The sorrow was still there in his eyes, vast and unchanging, but there was determination as well, and the broken look that he'd worn before was disappearing before Toulouse's very eyes. "I'll find him," he said again, softly.

Julien hesitated a long moment, looking at Toulouse as though seeing the boy for the first time. After a bit, his hand came up, settling over Toulouse's and gripping his friend's hand warmly. "Just swear to me that whatever you might find out about him, you won't hide it from me," he asked, feeling his stomach flipflop when he forced himself to accept the next thought. "Just because I live doesn't mean he does... or ever will. But if he's out there, I want to find him, Toulouse. I don't feel whole without him..."

He moved slowly back to his bed, sitting down on it as his tiredness stole away the determination, leaving him simply exhausted, ready for sleep again, even if it might mean seeing that horrible sight once more. The memory didn't fade like so many dreams did. He could close his eyes and still see the sight of his lover dead, crumpled to the forest floor as plainly as if he were right there. Shuddering at the idea, Julien's arms slipped around himself in a self-hug, to ward off the chill of the memories.