ORIGIN

There was a strange pressure at the back of his mind, like probing fingers, questioning, prodding at the edges of the open mental wound. It hurt, like daggers taken to raw meat, but Barnett couldn't focus on it, not when the body beneath him went still. "No, no, no! You do not get to do this to me again!" The numbat dropped down onto the dragon's snout, past caring if the thing was real or not, just frantically scrambling to its nose, tensing when no warm breath escaped. "Dammit! You fucking coward, wake up!" The tears clouded his vision, and Booker brushed them away with a charred forearm, raising one fist to slap it down onto the dragon's fur in frustration.

And then the dragon gasped, twitching, making Barnett rock with the motion. His maw opened, tongue dropping out, frothing white, and the scribe's gaze widened, pupil constricting, a fresh wave of horror sweeping through him like a murky cold tide. "No, no, what's happening, you didn't take anything," Booker rambled on an exhale, darting from one side of his brother's face to the other, climbing to his eye and watching it stay still, not even daring to breathe.

And then the probing became a pull, then a tug, and suddenly the world went dark. Barnett hurtled back into his mindscape, and every inch of the room was alight with blue fire. It swirled slowly, spawned from the twister revolving in the center of the room, one tendril curled around Booker. The figures that painted the walls had all come to brutal life, mouths open in screams, turning on their heels and running aimlessly across the opal walls, crashing into each other, some running to the void and disappearing.

Clover and Diot were erased by a searching maw of flame, Bee swallowed up by another, feathers crinkling under the heat. Khloros and Louie ran to the void, ash smudging into darkness.

Bones stayed.

But that was no surprise.

He smiled, and sat, and stared, unjudging, as if he were waiting for something. He was a good friend. Their mind whispered brother.

But he was fading, too.

Barnett slowly slunk through the chaos, picking his way through rubble as the pieces of wall around the void fell as it shrunk, revealing more and more bloody flesh, until finally it blinked out completely, a tunnel of muscle and bone stretching out into nothingness, the floor lined with gray matter. And Booker... Booker was walking into the path like it could save him, falling to the floor and crawling, half his body decaying into nothing but a trail of slime. His lungs dragged behind him, fallen out of his ribcage, mouth lolling open.

Barnett stared hard, thinking. It would be so easy to let him go. Let him melt completely.

It was a tempting thought.

He ran forwards anyway, grabbed the husk with both hands and pulled him back, feet depressing the spongy meat floor. He half-dragged and half-pushed the thing until they both hit solid rock ground, and then he stared, panting, as the tunnel began to move, alive, a heartbeat thudding through it, fresh blood painting the floor. A shock of pain ran through them both, and Barnett clutched at his head, yelping, half-collapsed from the sensation, eyes glued to the sight of the tunnel... repairing itself.

The fire yawned, speeding towards it, licking at the edges, and the tunnel twitched, healing the damage as soon as it occurred, and the blue flame soon gave up, returning to antagonizing the sketches. The tunnel flooded with light, tinted pink, and a great crack! ripped through the air, like ice breaking. The other end of the tunnel grew clearer and clearer, fleshy walls slowly, inch by inch, foot by foot, becoming encased in pink stone. The black opal of his own mind began to move and shift, growing to meet the pink, and soon they met with a burst of light. Behind him, Booker shifted, groaning, flesh knitting itself back together as the both of them sat and watched the tunnel become a hallway, alight with warmth.

Brother...

The word breathed through the connection, the bond, and Booker hiccuped, leaving Barn to turn away, uncomfortable, staring hard into the link. Your turn, Booker. Time to live again. He rose and turned on his heel, gripped the other numbat, and threw him towards the tunnel, unceremoniously shoving the scribe to the surface with a strangled gasp.

Booker's eye popped open, misty, and he stared hard down at Baratheon, hands clenching and unclenching, fur on end, ears flat with disbelief.

I'm so sorry...

The scribe flinched back, stumbling over his own feet, falling to his haunches perched on one of the dragon's arms. "Bara? You... you're alive?" His mouth stayed open, panting, frantically holding onto consciousness.

He didn't think about how different everything would be if all of this had never happened. He couldn't. Not now.

It would hit him soon enough.

"Baratheon Speech"


Was something different? Or had he been gone so long that having his brother's mind in his own was a new but still perfect thing? Perhaps nearly having Baratheon die had done something to his mind but in any case he didn't care. He had his brother back and he never would leave again. He lifted his head and licked his mouth with his tongue to clean it before carefully nudging his nose towards the numbat. He touched the tiny creature's plush fur with the tip of his muzzle like a gentle kiss. It felt surreal, like a dream to be back and to be able to touch Booker again. He was afraid this was a dream that at any moment he would wake up and be a confused Dragon again, floundering with his headaches and his inability to understand. But no... This was real. His brother's smell, his voice, his soul. He could feel it all and it made him weep for joy.

Not trusting his voice and still finding it easier to speak with his mind he reached out to gently caress Booker's side of the bond with his own. To reassure him that, yes, he was alive and he was really here. I am... I'm more alive in this moment than I have been for cycles... You set me free... He did. He would have wandered around in the caves lost forever if he hadn't found his brother. He never would have known this intense joy... He would have still been hiding from his memories and trying to live as he should not.

Still... This was all his fault. His bravado and his stupid pride... He had wanted to leave and fight the black demon. If only he'd stayed. If only he hadn't abandoned his brother and his duty. Would Booker be angry? Would he understand? Would he be forgiven? These thoughts almost seemed irrelevant for the moment as he stared down at his brother and nuzzled him with his soft, white nose. Perhaps they could just stay like this forever. Forget what had happened in the past and just live for now and the future... Ah, but if only wishes always came true.

Booker stayed still, staring blankly, startling at the gentle touch of scaly muzzle to chest. His breath came in strangled pants, pressure building in his head, behind his eye - but he forced himself to relax in increments, fighting off the looming panic attack, letting himself give in to the urge to lean into the gesture. The meeting with Louie had almost destroyed him, but this - this could go so much worse. I am... The numbat flinched, unused to hearing anything but Barnett's voice rattling around. Either way, it was obvious that what they had to hash out would be done through the bond - whether Booker liked it or not.

Sinking back into the opal plane, the scribe risked a harsh gesture towards Barnett, the other raise his hands in acquiescence, snickering to himself. Booker ignored him, hobbling to sit in front of the bond, bathed in its glow, watching the light pulse and move when Baratheon touched their minds together. I'm more alive in this moment than I have been for cycles... The words echoed strangely through the crystalline cave, eventually swallowed up by the roar of the fire, quieted down but still present - burning hotter than ever, blue with streaks of white. You set me free...

Booker stared hard as black melted to mix with pink, a purple hue forming in the center of the bond, swirling, a strange parody of the void that had lived in its place for so long. He glanced away, down at his hands, watched them shake, the fire's light reflecting off of burn scars and raw skin. Three claws were scraped down to stubs, cracked from his rush to get away from Louie. Louie - he'd have to tell Baratheon about that.

A sick twist of guilt, shame, and anger rushed through him; yeah, it would be awful to hear that his little brother had fallen in love with his captor, but looking back on his own relationship with the dragon himself, hadn't they done equal damage? Their bond had been so one-sided, and Mother forgive him, he still woke up screeching in phantom pain as an incisor speared his back leg. One of the first memories that had returned had been watching Bones heal himself, watched fire burn skin back together, twist it permanently.

It was all mixed up, now, like murky water riddled with predators waiting to strike. But Booker focused on one thing at a time, and pulled at the one emotion that ran clear through everything - anger. Anger was good, powerful. It had kept him alive this long, and it would get him through this. Barnett sent him an approving glance, but the scribe was too focused on the portal to notice, teeth chattering in thought.

I... where were you, all this time? We - ah - I, I searched everywhere for you, but there was nothin'. I felt you die, Bara. And he would not cry dammit; he hadn't cried for Louie, he wouldn't cry for this. Do you get that? I felt it. I felt everything. He was grimacing, now, in both his forms, but he kept the salt biting his eyes instead of his cheeks. I can't forget it. And I... lost m'self, for a while. Still lost, I think. He shook once, twice, hind claws digging across the opalescent floor.

There's... a lot has happened. And a lot of it is bad, and you, you gotta promise to listen, because ah cain't lose you again. I won't. Booker's gaze flickered to Barn and back to the link. If ya do somethin' like this again - go off on some wild goose chase and nearly get yerself killed? I'm done.

For good.

"Baratheon Speech"

He seemed... He seemed, different. Yes, he knew the extended absence was enough to affect anyone but this. There something different in his mind but he couldn't say what but he knew in his core that it was something big. However, he didn't dare question it yet. He knew Booker would tell him without him bringing it up or forcing his way into the other's mind. There were rules for being polite in this link and he wouldn't break them. Not when Booker had him on the ropes as he did now.

The dragon waited now for his Bonded's reaction while all the while focusing on the clear light of link. It had been gone for so long but now in the gaping hole in his mind it was back. The constant soft burning, the warmth like a comforting furnace. He was afraid that if he stopped monitoring it then it would evaporate and leave him alone again... He could remember that one day --to remember things without feeling like his brain was being ripped out, it was fantastic-- when he'd admitted to not liking to be alone. They had been in Monoceros at the time when he'd told his brother about... the Bloodlust. His disease... The disease which caused his nightmares in his previous addle-brained state. He shook his head... and suddenly was met with Booker's boiling rage.

Mentally he shrank away, cowering away from the just anger. He knew it had been coming but he did not want it yet. Not when he'd just been reunited but he couldn't speak a word to defend himself. No. He agreed with the numbat, he was right. But it still hurt to finally hear it spoken...

The dragon's ears lowered to the side's of his head and his head dropped onto the ground as he looked up with his one eye as he implored silently for forgiveness. He knew his Bonded's physical eye was closed but the message would still get across with how closely linked they were. A soft whine escaped his throat as he allowed the numbat his anger, remaining silent until his tiny tirade was over. Now that it was his turn he reached up and tried to lick the numbat with his blue tongue to show that he was sorry. It might cut an interesting figure to see such a huge creature literally on his belly begging for forgiveness from a tiny numbat.

I'm so sorry. What I did was foolish. I let my anger get in the way of my duty and cloud my judgement. I never should have left you, I should have stayed by your side. He closed his eye and focused inwards completely, trying to convey his sincerity and regret. In a way, I did die... Just as you were lost, I was. The fight, after it, I lost my head. Forgot who I was, repressed memories, and refused to come to terms with who I was until now. I promise though, I am back and I won't leave you again. Never again. But please... I beg you, brother... Don't leave me. If you give up on me I don't know what I'd do. I need you to help keep me sane and help keep me from hurting those that we love. His breathe rustled the grass in front of him as he exhaled and laid himself bare before Booker. Just as you are lost without me, I am lost without you.

The fire was raging, swirling out of its column in the center of the room, and distantly Booker heard Barnett skitter towards it, calming it down. The scribe remained focused on the bond, skin itching to hear a response, some sort of apology - but wasn't it selfish, to want his brother to be sorry for dying? Wasn't it so incredibly self-centered to want someone to apologize for being killed? Booker grimaced, absentmindedly plucking brittle fur from his arms, the strands falling to the black, reflective floor.

A whine broke through from the waking world, followed by the gentle grooming of a tongue. A fresh swamp of guilt filled Booker up to the brim, so much he felt it would start pouring from his ears at any moment, like the blood in the tunnel. The static image flashed through his mind once, of looking up at Louie, muzzle stained with his blood, grinning. It should have fed the anger, made it rise up again. It only made him lonely.

I'm so sorry. What I did was foolish. Barnett snorted from his stance by the flame, warming his hands in its blue light, rolling his eyes when Booker shot him a glare. I let my anger get in the way of my duty and cloud my judgement. Barnett huffed out a laugh, and Booker slapped a hand on the ground, effectively shutting him up for the moment. I never should have left you, I should have stayed by your side. The scribe choked down his immediate reaction, closed his eye, felt his gem spark to reach for blood.

In a way, I did die... Just as you were lost, I was. The fight, after it, I lost my head. Forgot who I was, repressed memories, and refused to come to terms with who I was until now. I promise though, I am back and I won't leave you again. Never again. Another flicker of memory - I love you, I'm sorry, - and Booker ground his teeth, tail curling into a loop. But please... I beg you, brother... Don't leave me. If you give up on me I don't know what I'd do. I need you to help keep me sane and help keep me from hurting those that we love. Just as you are lost without me, I am lost without you.

Those that we love. Isn't that funny, Books? Huh?

Barn, shut up, Booker hissed, turning his head to face the other, watching with a frown as the other half of him stalked towards the bond, got up on two legs and stepped into it, grinning ferally. Who we love! You wanna tell him who we love, Booker? Huh? Wanna see just how fast he runs again? Wanna watch him break another promise?

Booker snarled, reached out to grab one of Barnett's ankles, pulled him down to the floor. The other simply cackled, an ugly, harsh sound, reverberating through the link. Oh shut up Booker, let all those nasty emotions out! They've been in here so long they're almost a part of you now! Just like they all were, he muttered, eyes roving to follow the ashen figures as they returned to their walls, Magdalena and Makyna stumbling and sketchy, Louie limping.

Bones was gone.

Just like he was. Barnett struggled out of Booker's grip, stumbled back to the entrance of the bond. Booker didn't stop him. See, Baratheon? See what's happened to your little brother? Your responsibility? You want us to keep you sane? To stop you from hurting others? Not much we can do when we can't do that for ourselves! He barked out a laugh, spit blood onto the cold floor. Who we love! Mother almighty, we are a joke!

The black-and-white figure of Louie turned on its wall, trotting towards the bond dutifully, trapped in stone but watching. Its eyeless face lifted into a triumphant sneer, trailing pieces of glass in its wake. Books might've downplayed all the bad shit, but I won't. His biggest fuckup to date might just be falling in love with the guy who kidnapped him. The still figure of Louie turned its head to peer at Booker, mouthing I'm sorry with that same sick grin.

The scribe stayed silent, shivering. It was Barnett's turn, now.

"Baratheon Speech"

An echo of laughter of some disturbance in the bond... He could feel it but he didn't understand it. Booker was one being, was one creature. Why did he feel like there was... another? At first it was just an echo, some amused emotion that didn't match Booker's. Then it stepped into his inward vision as clear as day. It was Booker and yet it was not. Where Booker was all curves and smoothness this one was angular, more viscous in a way. Like him... He could see himself in this other Booker and it filled him with confusion. Was this what he meant about being lost? Had he found a way to cope by making another self?

This one was all fast-talking, all fire, it took Baratheon a moment to catch up on what was happening. I don't know who you are or why you're in my brother's mind space... but know this, I won't leave again. No matter what news there is. His mental voice was low but not angry but possibly just a step from it. Who was this new-Booker to invade his Bonded's space and tell him how things would be? He wasn't exactly angry but he was discontent with the turn of things. He didn't know how to react... This new-Booker was fighting with his old-Booker but how could he protect when his brother was literally fighting with himself? He bubbled his confusion out through the bond, unsure of how to go about things as he waited for what else would be said.

His name had him snapping back to attention at the new-Booker, he spoke as if he wasn't apart of the body or the mind which he lived but he was. He also spoke words that hurt. Words that were the truth. How he wished they weren't but he did abandon his responsibility. He could make up excuses all he wanted but he could not get away from what he had done. Everything he spoke was truth and it sickened him. This new-Booker with his sensibilities and words spoken without a filter. He hated it... but he had to admit that he couldn't hate the being. Not only because this one was still his brother but because he wasn't afraid of the truth. We will figure out a way... In time. The dragon rumbled. He knew it wasn't a good answer but it was the only one he had at the moment. Especially when new-Booker piled on more news.

The one who'd held them captive? Half-Face? The dragon could feel a growl rumbling from his throat in his outside body. What on earth? This had happened because he wasn't around to defend him! Half-Face had taken advantage of the weakened Booker! It was all his fault! In his mind he let out an angered roar at the numbat. He was submissive once but for the moment the news about the fox rekindled an anger in him, an anger he hadn't felt for cycles. HOW COULD YOU LET THAT HAPPEN? HE HURT YOU! HE HURT US BOTH! HE WANTS TO CAUSE NOTHING BUT HARM AND YET YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM?! HOW COULD YOU BE SO FOOLISH? BOOKER! BOOKER! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE! ANSWER ME! WHY HAVE YOU FALLEN IN LOVE WITH THE HALF-FACE? Love was a strange thing. He loved Booker. He loved Rauslin. He had seen Makyna and Leon love each other. Love didn't mean you hurt the other... Why did he fall in love with a creature that only wanted to inflict harm? It made absolutely no sense! You stayed away from things that harmed, not fall in love with them!

I don't know who you are or why you're in my brother's mind space... but know this, I won't leave again. No matter what news there is. The words were followed by a low undercurrent of barely muffled anger seeping through the bond, and Barnett grinned, wide and vicious, eyes narrowing in contempt and sour victory. Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Barnett. You'll be dealing with me now. A surge of confusion bubbled over pink and black gemstone like pond scum, fizzing and green-gray.

We will figure out a way... in time. Barnett rolled his eyes, snout wrinkling in disgust. There was a flash of disappointment from Booker's position, still sprawled on the floor behind his other half, gemstone alight with reflections of the fire. Y'know, somehow that answer doesn't satisfy me in the slightest. Oh! Maybe that's because it's a complete and total cop-out and you know it. The numbat sneered into the pink-black-purple link, teeth chattering, fur on end. Figure it out? Like you did so well last time?

He kept the memories back, for now.

He needed them for when the fallen-in-love-with-Louie part of the message hit.

And oh, hit it did.

Anger, hot as Raheerah's flames, practically burst through the bond, pink-stained gaping maws of ash, strangling the light of the bond. Barnett's eye widened, and he rolled out of the way in time for the beam to crash into their own twisting inferno. The blue and the pink seemed to blend, mixing into a clash of mistrust and blame, guilt and terror.

Booker was curled into a tight ball in one of the room's corners, mumbling to himself, paws trapped tight over his ears as the roar reverberated. HOW COULD YOU LET THAT HAPPEN? The scribe flinched, and Barnett hissed, a vicious sound, like an animal with its leg caught in a steel trap, wounded. He turned on his heel to stare at the bond, and slowly his own opaline gem began to fizz and spark. The blue, biting anger that swirled at their core, fueled them, kept them alive, began to fight back against the pink flames, began to constrict around it, choke it to death, ashes falling to coat the floor.

Slowly, pink was swallowed by blue, and the flames roared back, rushed at the connection, covered it in angry licking tendrils, reaching out to hurt, to wound and destroy and sever. HE HURT YOU! HE HURT US BOTH! HE WANTS TO CAUSE NOTHING BUT HARM AND YET YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM?! HOW COULD YOU BE SO FOOLISH? Barnett crouched, hissed again, mouth gaped, eye wide and pupil narrowed into a pinpoint, the hair that followed his spine rippling. Booker was rocking, now.

Drops of flesh and fur hit the floor.

BOOKER! BOOKER! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE! ANSWER ME! WHY HAVE YOU FALLEN IN LOVE WITH THE HALF-FACE? Leave him alone! A fist stretched out to slam into the ground where pink met black, cracking lavender crystal, the flames seeping into the wound eagerly, like salt to a fresh cut. Foolish! Who's the bigger fool here, Baratheon? Yes, he hurt us! A palm slapped into one of the walls, and with blue heat came images, flashing, aimed to catch in the dragon's mind and tear.

Watching Louie from the ground, tasting his own blood, the fox smiling down at him, self-satisfaction stretching his face. Red spat back in his face. You've got no one to defend you. You're such a pitiful rat. Snarling. The fox's son, growing in its own gemstone chrysalis. Booker never cared for me don't fucking lie to me! Louie's shoulders heaving, tears, spittle and snot falling to the floor. My mission is to destroy and kill everything in Origin cave. Trembling. Sweating. Frozen to the spot, terror still coursing through his veins replaced by a different kind of fear. Booker... I love you.

The mental figure of the scribe in the corner shook, retched, but organ meat replaced bile, spilled onto the opal floor with sickening wet thumps.

I'm sorry.

Mother almighty he hurt us. But you hurt us worse, you absolute piece of shit! The next punch created a hole, a window back to the swirling dark, and more memories poured into it, carried by the fire. Bones, beaten and near death, bloody, being helpless to do anything but watch as his best friend had to burn himself back together. Delphine, sliced open, still. Magdalena, staring at him like she'd rather kill him than forgive him for daring to be the brother of a monster.

Red. In everything, for days, covered in his family's blood. Flinching at every shadow. Dazedly wandering through Eridanus. Claws digging into his burrow, red eyes narrowed into murderous hatred. A single sharp incisor digging its way into muscle, snapping bone, destroying his leg permanently.

The bond blocked off, opening only to torture him further. Wish me luck, Booker... I love you. Snapping shut again. Screaming at it, begging, pleading for some sign of life. Booker... I've failed... Unending, boiling pain, enough to make him claw at his own body, mark bloody trenches into skin, tear out hair, feel the phantom shock as his good eye popped free from its socket, the innate flash of fear at the prospect of being totally and completely blind. The bond, shattering like glass, the shards embedding themselves into his mind and growing like infected pustules.

Trying to turn on his own son, to hurt a child. Sick with the want to throw him away, control him, do anything to rebalance himself. Something moving in his veins, in his head, through his nose and ears, a blood-red snake coiled in his palms, losing almost the entirety of his blood volume to one final blow.

Days spent drowned in a haze of as many plants he could find, losing weight faster than he could get up the energy to eat. Khloros. Bee. Dovefeather.

Barnett.

Do you see now, you selfish, arrogant prick? We have a habit of loving things that destroy us.

You're the worst of them all.

"Baratheon Speech"

Barnett? So this new-Booker had a name too? It was awfully confusing though not unlike Dragon who he had been for a few cycles. However, Dragon was no more after he'd gotten his mind back. Just as he suspected, this Barnett was completely unlike Booker. Just as opposite as Dragon had been to him. However, while Dragon was kind and peaceful... Barnett was not.

The words thrown at him made him flinch. He was right. He didn't know how to answer and didn't know how they would figure things out at all. He was no seer and he wasn't perfect, he didn't know the answer to everything so that was the only way he could answer. Still, that didn't make it any less lame of an excuse. It only made it worse because of his last poor decision. Leaving the numbat and setting off on his own to try and fight Raheerah was one --no-- the worst mistake of his life... Both of their lives. With them being so closely bound he couldn't afford to do such things. He wouldn't anymore... He couldn't... He was a Dragon and he was made to protect his Rider. Not do stupid things to ruin them both.

However, after the anger hit and it roiled within the bond he felt something fighting back. Blue flames, hot, hotter than his own lashed back at him. His own pink ones battled back at Barnett's fire but even he could do a thing he felt himself being beaten down. He felt frustrated, angry, and he wanted nothing more than to be in control. To rip and rend and burn out until there was nothing left for. He'd dug them into a hole... That fox would hurt them again. He'd take him prisoner. He'd beat out his fire again and steal away his brother...

The blue flames smothered him as Barnett spoke again and then covered him with memories. They ripped through his mind, showing Louie at his most awful. He was threatening Booker and then... He was fearful and admitting a love... Sincerely. Baratheon was caught. Mother almighty he hurt us. But you hurt us worse, you absolute piece of shit! And then, the memories of the things that Baratheon had done. The dragon could do nothing but watch with a wide eye as the memories flashed before him. He could feel tears forming as he remembered everything he'd done. Bloodlusted and not to friends and family... to Booker.

The flames completely went out.

The only monster here was Baratheon. He had done nothing but hurt others since he came out of his chysalis. He didn't always want to but want didn't matter because he did. He destroyed everything he touched... He was nothing but a failure.

Do you see now, you selfish, arrogant prick? We have a habit of loving things that destroy us.

You're the worst of them all.


He should never have come back.

He was stupid.

Foolish.

He could do nothing about the past and it seemed he would only hurt the future. He didn't want to hurt Booker... He didn't want to hurt Barnett either even after he'd just been torn into. The fiery numbat was right... He was selfish and he hurt everything.

I'm sorry... What would you have me do? An image flashed in his mind of walking away, never to return to Eridanus. Another of him drowning himself in a pool at Pisces. However, he wouldn't do that. Not unless Booker or Barnett willed it. He made a promise that he would protect them... but if he didn't want him... If he wanted Louie instead or to be left alone altogether. I will leave if you will it... but I cannot stay gone unless you want me out of this cave altogether. If he saw through the link that Booker was in danger he'd have no choice but to come to his call but there was a way out of it if Booker wanted...

I told you I would do my duty to protect you and I will, not matter what.

Until death. That was what it would take to make him leave again.

Barnett panted, chest heaving, half-collapsed in the hallway that formed the bond. The blue flames began to recede, coiling their way around him, stealing the rest of his energy, returning to their twisting tether while he slumped to the floor, body covering the holes and cracks in the merge point.

Booker lay in his corner, waiting. His paws appeared as bone, still moving in the strange half-reality of the mindspace. Everything was silent and still. So slowly, the scribe rose, little droplets of flesh, bone, marrow, blood and muscle marking his path. He half-crawled, half-walked to the middle of the bond, sat next to Barnett's collapsed form. Pushed him aside in a daze.

Stuck his deformed hands into the holes.

Purple-yellow-pink-black-white light pulsed like a heartbeat, and Booker focused, eye narrowing, opal sparkling and shimmering. Dreamlike, he pulled at the edges of the cracks, moved shards back into place, until, one by one, the wounds began to heal. Sharp cracks resounded as opal and rhodochrosite fused, pink merging into black once again, dawn meeting the night sky. Barnett awoke enough to glare, snapping and snarling, but Booker gripped his face, pushed it to the cold floor. Made him sleep.

Made him listen.

I'm sorry... What would you have me do? Images, of Baratheon leaving for good, walking out on them, and Barnett frothed at the mouth, eye rolling, fur rippling at random, jaws snapping at the air. Of the dragon forcing himself into the water, liquid filling his lungs like lead, drifting to the bottom. Booker's good eye widened, skin slipping off his cheekbone. No.

It was all he could say, really.

I will leave if you will it... but I cannot stay gone unless you want me out of this cave altogether. I told you I would do my duty to protect you and I will, not matter what.

Booker shook once, felt Barnett go still under his bones. The other had gotten what he wanted, the scribe supposed. Assurance. Some animalistic need to cause pain. Please, d-don't... don't go, he whispered. He felt more than saw Barnett mouth the words in unison. I'm - I'm sorry for... that. He shouldn't have... we needed t-to talk, but he shouldn't have a-attacked you like that...

Barnett looked smug, and after a moment of indecision Booker broke from the haze, snarled, vicious and disgusted, rose a fist that reformed in time to crack over Barnett's jaw. The other spit blood onto the floor, sneered back. Aww, little Booksy. Are ya gonna cry now? You really gonna pretend like you didn't enjoy that little show? The alter dodged the next blow, skittered back out of the bond, wiped blood from his nose and spit onto the floor. Shut up, Barnett! You did yer job.

The other's wiry, ragged frame heaved with a cackle, but he settled, sat at the doorway to the bond, eye narrowed. Watching. Waiting for another excuse to shatter it.

Bara, please listen to me. Yer my family. And yes, you've hurt me, but - but I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago; Mother, I forgave you when I thought you were dead! The whole of the cave seemed to shudder, making the link twitch and flicker. Booker raised a paw to his head, another outstretched, as if he could reach into the bond itself and pull Baratheon through. Don't go. I c-couldn't take it you left again. I barely survived the first time. He shivered, grimaced. But I'm doin' the same thing, ain't I. Makin' this all about me.

The sketch of Louie opened its jagged maw in mute laughter.

I'm sorry. I just. You can leave, of course you can. I don't want you to stay if you want to leave, brother. But I meant what ah said, in Monoceros.

I'd only leave if ya asked me to.

Memories of staying awake at night, haunted by flashes of the dragon's "death," wondering what he could've done to save him, only to wake up alone and empty, unsure of what had stirred him in the first place. He wouldn't survive it again.

We... we do need to... talk. Now that all of... the stuff before is outta the way. He winced, eyed the walls as Louie pranced down the bond, tail practically wagging in victory, glass shining as it climbed from his feet to his shoulders. There's good stuff. And bad stuff. And... Lou stuff. Not sure what ta classify that stuff as.

"Baratheon Speech"

Silent as a shadow he awaited the verdict. Would the numbat allow him to live? Or did he prefer to be alone now? He would be sad if it was the latter decision but he would't hold it against him. A lot had happened in those few months.

He could see in his mind's eye Barnett as he slumped and he could feel when Booker took back the reigns. The wounded Bond was being repaired by the merciful Rider. To feel it being touched so gently and with care it filled him with hope. Perhaps Booker didn't want him gone. Perhaps he still loved and cared despite the other part of his mind which he seemed to be at odds with. Sort of. It was all still very confusing to the dragon, really.

The words spoken in his mind warmed him and the dragon eased himself to the numbat mentally, brushed their thoughts to show his affection and forgiveness. He understood and though the words hurt, he did not hold them against either of the mental-numbats for the words were true. But he was right... Perhaps I needed him to speak with me that way. He had to admit that Booker's quieter voice might not have broken through to the dragon as Barnett's did.

Speaking of, the other mental-numbat crept back into the glow of the Bond. He was never at a loss for words to acerbate the dragon's thoughts. Mentally he took a step back, not sure if something else would be lashed at him. Fortunately, Booker had everything under control and he was left alone. He heaved a mental sigh of relief. Thoughts brushing against the numbat again as he listened to his words and bathed in his love.

He had only one reply for the numbat and it was a direct mirror of Booker's own words. I will only leave if you wish it. Until then, you're stuck with me. Humor. The first joke he'd told in months, since before that doomed fight with Raheerah.

We do... there is much to talk about on both our ends. He could feel his fur prickling again at the mention of Louie. However, if Booker had fallen in love with him then there was nothing he could really do about it now. He would wait and he would see what would happen in the future. If he proved that he couldn't be trusted and tried to hurt his Bonded again... Well, he would deal with it if that time came. Half-face... I will... be open-minded... If he has not hurt you this time around and if you love him... I cannot kill him without hurting you. He fell silent, waiting to see what Booker would say. He hated Louie but loved Booker enough to tolerate him... Especially after the talking to Barnett had given him. With what he had done he probably made the fox pale in comparison anyway.