[ it feels like they've all been together for a lifetime, really. he's never wanted charity, but the three of them - they've given him everything that he could get himself to accept. a new life, away from a father who deafened him in one ear, away from an indifferent mother who watched it happen. an apartment, a safe place to sleep, a place all their own where they could just fuck around and do nothing. he'd wanted the tomb to fix himself, so he could fix everybody else. a future, where none of them suffered.
it doesn't hurt so much, as yves carries him to marcoh. his consciousness is wavering, but it's that sweet spot. the way it feels to be carried by someone you love to your bed, careful not to wake you up. his unbroken arm comes to hold onto yves, onto siffrin, however he can.
he's left standing, as they all curl together, broken and bleeding. let me go, marcoh says.
there's something... soft. something soft and warm that cushions him as they approach the river, as he looks across. all four of these people, he desperately cares about, even if they're not here for him. uruha, making sure he can see him before tossing him a water bottle. elysia, pouting at him from where she's got her face tucked into his tail. lucas, on the beach late at night, sitting shoulder to shoulder and lamenting about the children in their care.
and basilio. sitting drunk in a kitchen, watching their chaos. standing on top of a lighthouse, tails twined together. we'll make it out, he says, and jiaoqiu hasn't cried in years and years and years, but he can feel the heat behind his eyes. it's all he can focus on, in the midst of how much his body hurts.
marcoh says he'll be okay, and that's fine. that's fine, because jiaoqiu doesn't think about how they could just let him take the whole of it. all four of them go together, or they don't go at all.
jiaoqiu barely even hesitates. he reaches and takes basilio's hand, expecting the others to do the same with their own phantoms. the river is waiting. ]
no subject
it doesn't hurt so much, as yves carries him to marcoh. his consciousness is wavering, but it's that sweet spot. the way it feels to be carried by someone you love to your bed, careful not to wake you up. his unbroken arm comes to hold onto yves, onto siffrin, however he can.
he's left standing, as they all curl together, broken and bleeding. let me go, marcoh says.
there's something... soft. something soft and warm that cushions him as they approach the river, as he looks across. all four of these people, he desperately cares about, even if they're not here for him. uruha, making sure he can see him before tossing him a water bottle. elysia, pouting at him from where she's got her face tucked into his tail. lucas, on the beach late at night, sitting shoulder to shoulder and lamenting about the children in their care.
and basilio. sitting drunk in a kitchen, watching their chaos. standing on top of a lighthouse, tails twined together. we'll make it out, he says, and jiaoqiu hasn't cried in years and years and years, but he can feel the heat behind his eyes. it's all he can focus on, in the midst of how much his body hurts.
marcoh says he'll be okay, and that's fine. that's fine, because jiaoqiu doesn't think about how they could just let him take the whole of it. all four of them go together, or they don't go at all.
jiaoqiu barely even hesitates. he reaches and takes basilio's hand, expecting the others to do the same with their own phantoms. the river is waiting. ]