Tazaro waited on the couch, rapidly drumming his fingers and tapping his foot in nerves as he anxiously anticipated Tyler barging through the door like a madman out of jail. The letter he wrote Tyler explained most things, but in a pit of despair, he crumpled it up and clenched it with a nervous, sweaty fist. After draft "three-hundred-fifty," Vincent agreed to bring Tyler to the apartment instead for the both of them to talk things out–with the promise that he would retreat to Tazaro’s bedroom to look after Sheeva or to his own room to bury himself in whatever book struck his fancy at the time.
Tazaro uncrumpled the latest draft and smoothed it out, reminding himself of everything he wanted to say. Most of all, Tazaro wanted to tell Tyler he was sorry, though Vincent insisted he was not at fault; things happened the way they did, and while Tazaro couldn’t change them during the moment, he still fought to change them afterward.
He sighed as he saw the blue ink had smudged all over the page and onto his now sweaty, sticky, blue-tinted palm. Even when not working with bastard printing presses, he still managed to get ink all over his hands. He began to chuckle at the fact, then relished in the curl of his face as the chuckle bubbled over into laughter.
He froze and made to bolt for the hallway as a knock sounded on the door, but as "shave-and-a-haircut" rapped out, Tazaro settled. He felt his eyes droop from the rush of adrenaline as he let out his shaky breath and lay against the back of the couch. When the door opened, he peered over the edge of it in nerves, still not quite ready to face the look of disappointment Tyler would hold after being led to believe Tazaro to be dead for two weeks.
Tazaro’s face brightened as he heard Jax’s bark coupled with the jingle of the nametag on the dog’s green collar and the multitude of thumps as his three tails thwacked against the furniture. The overjoyed creature whimpered with thrill and hopped up on hind legs to barrel into Tazaro and lick furiously at his face.
“Wow, Jax, I missed you, too!”
“I thought yeh hated ‘im.” Tyler’s gruff voice stated behind him. Tazaro turned around in his seat, a pained, apologetic look on his face. He pushed Jax off gently and stood to walk around the couch to face him, wearing an ashamed scowl and droop of his shoulders.
“Tyler, I…” He began, then pursed his mouth shut as he witnessed all the things he wanted to say go up in smoke. His head dropped further as he wrenched his eyes closed and forced a strained, painful “I’m sorry,” as he began to sob.
"No, don't you dare!" Tyler grabbed Tazaro’s shoulders and pulled him into a chest-crushing hug. Tazaro couldn’t see over Tyler’s shoulders, but he was sure he heard Vincent call to Jax, who’d been running in ecstatic circles around the furniture and beckon him down the hallway.
“I’m going to tend to Sheeva,” Vincent announced as he disappeared down the hall.
“How long have yeh been–
–two weeks, maybe three, now. I’m so sorry.” He apologized again. Tyler squeezed Tazaro even more.
“Why din’t yeh say anything?”
Tazaro expected to hear bitter anger in Tyler’s voice and had fully prepared himself for the chiding bitterness, but, when he noticed what seemed to be understanding, he scowled at himself.
Shane on him for even thinking such things!
As reality crashed, Tazaro slowly realized that Tyler had always fought to understand why they were at odds–even when they argued about the lamest things.
“We needed to be safe,” Tazaro answered. He felt Tyler nodding on the top of his head.
“Safe?" He asked, surprised and recalling the instance when Sheeva had not returned for the need to make sure everyone was "safe." He had a feeling the two instances were related to one another.
"Heh, ok," he chuckled, then cleared his throat.
"Okay, so: safe.” Tyler grabbed Tazaro’s shoulders and pushed him back to look him in the face. “Are yeh safe now?” He asked, concerned. Tazaro felt the screwy smile on his face at the relief he felt that Tyler cared so much. He nodded as well as he could manage, his brain still struggling to keep up with him.
“I think so. I hope so. I mean–we haven't heard or been shown otherwise.”
Tyler nodded and huffed in relief, pulled Tazaro back in for another tight hug, and began to cry. Tazaro braced himself in a small stance as he tried to support Tyler as he crumbled and buried his face in Tazaro’s shoulder.
“Thank the gods, thank the Lady–whatever god or goddess helped spare yeh, thank ‘em!”
Tazaro hid his skeptic scowl from his stepfather's eyes, certain it would cause an issue regarding Tazaro's lack of faith.
Tyler composed himself and broke away to cup Tazaro’s face.
“Look at yeh: alive n’ well! I kin’t believe it!” He set his hands on Tazaro’s shirt and shook him, and Tazaro had to brace himself for the ruggedness of this, too. Tyler straightened out and looked towards the back rooms, likely for Mildred.
“Where’s-where's yer Mom, T?” He asked, face curling and lifting with hope, eyes downcast with fear. "Where's Millie?"
Tazaro barked out a strained "wait!" as Tyler went to hurry towards the back of the apartment. He grabbed Tyler’s wrists but didn’t move the man’s hands off his shoulders. He’d need the support in a few seconds.
“She…” His voice caught in his throat as he decided last-minute he didn’t want to tell him. At least, not that she was just dead. “She gave her life for us, Tyler. For-for Sheeva and I.”
Tazaro hissed as Tyler’s hands gripped his shoulders so tightly his skin pinched beneath the man’s paws. Tyler shook him again with the fabric of his shirt roughly enough that he heard a tear form in it somewhere, and Tazaro gulped, fearful that Tyler would do something psychotic, like throw him against the wall in a rage. Instead, the man gave a deep-chested bellowing wail.
“Yer lying!” He seethed as he trembled with rage. “Yer lyin’ to me!” Tyler pleaded.
“I’m–I’m not,” Tazaro stated as adamantly as he could with a frog croaking in his throat. He and Sheeva lacked proof, and the speculation of Mildred having made a deal was still up for debate. For now, it seemed that, yes, Mildred had given her life for the both of them since Zakaraia had failed to kill Sheeva and had not harmed Tazaro, though he certainly could have.
“Oh, my sweet Millie! My Millie,” he wept, crumbling to his knees at Tazaro’s feet. His hands dropped from Tazaro’s shoulders, but Tazaro caught them and held fast.
Tyler silenced mid-sob and shook with rage, clenching Tazaro’s hands in large fists that made Tazaro wince from pain.
“What happened? Who did it?” Tyler growled threateningly. “Who?”
“I, I’m not sure you want to–
–damnit, boy! Yeh kin’t tell me anything I haven’t seen before! Yeh know what happened to Gus, and I’ve seen men killed, torn to pieces on the battlefield! Good friends, dismembered! Good soldiers, holding their entrails and–Vilg, just tell me!” He barked, then softened at Tazaro’s terrified, saddened gaze. Greying amber eyes looked between orange, and when Tyler calmed his frantic panting and hung his head, he sighed and sniffled.
“Just tell me, please,” Tyler begged.
“Sheeva fought a man to buy Mom and me time to run. She fell unconscious, and he caught up to us. Zakaraia snapped her neck.”
Somehow, and to Tazaro’s surprise, this calmed Tyler more, though the older man still seemed in shock.
Tazaro guided him to the couch and helped him sit down on it. Tyler lay back and appeared as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“It was quick, then. She didn’t suffer.” He sighed, though more so to himself, it seemed.
“I’m…” He began, then huffed in relief. “I’m so glad she didn’t suffer,” He sighed, smiling. “I’d been thinking this whole time she suffered in her final moments. Screamin’, callin’ fer help. Fer yeh, fer me. Hell, even fer Sheeva. But knowin’...” He paused, and looked Tazaro from head to toe, seeming further relieved that Tazaro was safe and well. “Knowin’ it was to protect you, an’ that it was quick, that helps. She would’ve, too–offered her life for those she loved.”
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Tazaro looked down at his feet, unsure of what to say.
“I’m sorry, I–
–No, don’t. Don’t think for one minute I blame yeh. Don’t blame yeh fer nothin’.” Tyler interrupted, pointing his finger at Tazaro’s face. Tazaro flinched briefly, surprised. “An’ on that note, yeh kin tell Sheeva I don’t blame her, neither.” He added.
Tazaro frowned and looked at his hands, folded in his lap as he sat on the footrest of the matching yellow chair. He looked up as a glint flashed in his eye, finding Tyler turning about a coin in his fingers. Considering how big Tyler’s paws were, Tazaro was impressed with the dexterity he showed off as the coin fell and rolled over his knuckles.
“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference,” Tyler stated, sighing heavily and closing his eyes as he lay his head back.
“Three weeks ago, I came close to flushing...” He paused, working through the math in his head. “Sixteen years down the drain. I’m glad I didn’t. Mildred wouldn’t want that."
Tyler hummed his thanks and shoveled the coin back into his pocket then stood. Tazaro stood too, feeling odd and out of place.
“So…the only thing I can do now is be here for yeh. Millie would want me to do that–and I want to do that. Yer a damn good son, and I’m so proud of yeh,” Tyler praised, pulling Tazaro into a tight hug. "I love yeh, and I'm so grateful you are alive, Tazaro."
Tazaro broke and trembled as he squeezed his teary eyes shut. His arms ached with the effort poured into his big around Tyler's torso, and as he wept into Tyler's shoulder, Tyler soothed the mourning man with soft hushes and a hand ruffling Tazaro's chestnut hair.
After a while, Tyler spoke.
"Yeh said Sheeva fought the man. Is she here?" He asked. Tazaro slowly nodded, wondering how to gently tell Tyler that Sheeva likely wouldn't want to be seen at the moment.
"She's resting. She was–is in pretty bad shape." Tazaro answered in a hushed voice, hoping Tyler would leave it at that.
“If it’s alright, I’d like to see her anyway. She saved yer life. She fought for yer mother’s. I’d like to thank her for that.” Tyler insisted. Tazaro had a worried look on his face.
“Um…” He struggled to find something else to say that would veer Tyler from wanting to see Sheeva, but he was too stunned by everything else.
“If yer worried about battle-wounds, I’ve seen more than my fair share, and yeh kin just–
–No, no, that’s not it!” Tazaro insisted, glancing towards his room with a guilty face. “Look, let me ask her first. She’s…” He trailed off again. How could he possibly say Sheeva had wings? "She's probably really embarrassed. I…know I would be," he admitted, feeling oddly extrospective.
Tazaro budged as soon as Tyler nodded in agreement, a humbled look on his face as he thought about something. Maybe, he was putting himself in her shoes and recalling what it was like to be lying around in oversized clothes, enduring itchy bandages, and having to deal with getting sponge baths.
“Wait here for a moment.” He muttered before heading towards his room. He rapped his knuckles on the door in the same fashion Vincent would when entering the house, pausing before turning the handle.
“You decent?” He asked, just to be sure. He had almost walked in while Vincent was changing the bandages on her chest yesterday morning.
Instead of answering outright, Sheeva opened the door from the other side, peering out at him through the crack in the door. When she saw he was alone, she ushered him in.
Vincent looked up from giving Jax all the petting the dog begged for. The three-tailed dog had a giant smile on its face.
“How did it go?” He asked. Tazaro smiled and nodded, but as he reminded himself of Tyler’s request, his face fell.
“So far, good," Tazaro answered, though unable to meet Sheeva's eyes. The fact that he hadn't yet apologized had begun to form a substantial block in his guts.
Rather than engage eye contact and endure a piercing gaze, he crossed his arms and stared at the shutters still closed over the window. He wondered if he would ever be able to sleep with the windows open again, fearing that the hot summer months would be absolute murder.
"Tyler wants to see you, Sheeva. He’s pretty adamant about it. I, uh, tried to tell him you were resting. It didn’t sway him in the slightest.”
Sheeva sighed, then attempted to cross her arms. Unable to, she reached up and began to fidget with a lock of her hair. A bittersweet smile broke through her usual frown.
“Do you think he would accept…” She gestured to her wing with a hand.
Tazaro glanced, frowned, and took a deep breath.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I can only hope so.” He answered, feeling his shoulders droop as the uncertainty welled in his gut.
“I can be ready with some diazepam if you like. Put Tyler to sleep if he takes it badly.” Vincent offered. Tazaro snorted.
“You’d probably need a lot of it. He’s a bulky guy.” He gave a small chuckle, then waved it off. “No. No, I leave the decision up to you, Sheeva.”
Sheeva took as deep of a breath as she could, tutted at something, and turned to grab the patchwork quilt Mildred had requested for Tazaro for a birthday, attempting to wrap it around herself. She barely had the mobility to get it around the unbound shoulder.
By way of silent apology, Tazaro stepped forward, reached for the quilt, and draped the blanket around her shoulders, covering the wing as well as he could. He deliberately ignored the sidelong glance Vincent threw his way. She paused at the door and took another deep breath to psyche herself up.
“Best to face our demons, isn’t it?” Sheeva muttered.
He followed her, stopping to trap Jax in his room. The last thing they needed was the big, fluffy thing toppling Sheeva and causing more recovery time.
Tyler stood as they stepped out, a surprised look on his face at Sheeva’s state.
“Damn, kid! I knew yeh were tough, but this guy did a number on yeh!” He blurted. Sheeva avoided his gaze, pouting so hard her lips pressed into a thin, almost invisible line.
“I’m sorry, Tyler. I could not keep–
–Nah. Nah, don’t start with that. C’mere. I know yer not one fer hugs, but…” Tyler hurried to capture her in a big-armed, gentle bearog-hug. “Take a moment and appreciate yer alive, Sheeva. Yeh saved my son. Thank you fer that. Yeh fought like hell for Mildred. That’s honorable.”
“But, Mildred–Sheeva stopped and coughed a little as Tyler squeezed a little tighter, as though to make a point.
–Yeh fought like hell for my family,” He stated, determined. “What happened after yeh fell…happened, and there’s nothin’ yeh kin do to change that. Millie went quick, and that’s comforting to me. And, whatever this is,” He gestured to Sheeva’s wing. “If it helped yeh fight like hell, then good. Considering things I’ve done, who am I to pass judgment on others? Nah. I’d be a hypocrite.”
Sheeva settled and returned his hug as well as she could.
“I believe you. Thank you.” She whispered, voice soft and tender. Tyler nodded in return and patted the back of her head.
As Tazaro seemed to relax and let go of a tense, worried breath, Tyler released Sheeva from his held-back hug, and she sighed, relief shining on her face.
“So. Yeh kids are in hiding, huh? From who? Or...what, I suppose, given all the things I’ve heard and now, this.”
Sheeva moved around to sit on the couch, clutching to the arm of the thing to ease herself down.
“For now, Zakaraia. As soon as I am able, Tazaro and I will head to Malfa Temple and train there. Tazaro has been assumed dead.” She answered. Tyler sat in Vincent’s chair, and Tazaro sat on the footrest, a sheepish look on his face.
“What about Llyud?” Tyler asked, surprised that Sheeva would give up on her search so readily, though, as he considered the state that Zakaraia left her in, he decided her priorities had changed. Sheeva sighed and leaned her head on her palm.
“Llyud is dead. Zakaraia killed him.”
“Mm. I see.”
Tyler, Tazaro, and Sheeva fell silent, each thinking to themselves.
Sheeva still seemed to seethe with animosity, though Tazaro felt it was a little less vibrant than it had been a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps she had taken his advice and found solitude in the fact that Llyud was dead, and that whether it was by her hand or Zakaraia’s did not matter.
Tyler huffed and smiled tearfully, a relieved expression on his face.
“I really am glad yeh two are still alive. Kin’t tell yeh how happy that makes me. Does Rin know?” He asked. Tazaro shook his head.
“No. No, and I think it's best not to tell him. The fewer people that know, the better. Perhaps we can bluff and have Zakaraia think we both, uh, died in the forest.” He explained. The more he said it, the more comfortable the idea became.
Tyler nodded and frowned.
“He must be dangerous, then, for yeh to consider playing dead.”
“He can do things no other Sferran can do. Not even myself.” Sheeva put in.
Another silence fell before Tyler spoke up.
“When yeh’ve healed, Sheeva, I’ll help smuggle yeh both outta here.” He offered. They looked at him, surprised.
“What? I know a thing or two about breakin’ the law,” He grunted. “Besides, don’t yeh dare think yeh two are headin’ out without sayin’ goodbye!” He argued, pointing at both of them. Sheeva chewed on her lip, as that was what she planned to do. A quiet, unnoticeable slip-away.
“Risking your reputation to smuggle us out is not necessary.” She decided.
Tyler took a deep breath and softened.
“At least say goodbye before yeh leave. I assume I won’t be seeing either of yeh ever again?”
Sheeva chuckled wistfully and shook her head slowly.
“I cannot say how long we will be gone. It could take a long time to train–and, longer still–to be ready to set out and pursue Zakaraia. Of course, Tazaro, you are free to do as you choose. I am not forcing you to do anything. All I can do is show you… a way.” She stated, as though giving him a chance to back out. Tazaro frowned.
He hadn’t quite grasped how he felt about having new abilities. Sure, the idea was “cool,” but the thought of trying to learn about them alone put a brick of unease in his gut. What if he screwed up a spell and blew himself up?
“I have–He stopped himself. He wasn’t forced; he was willing, and his word choice needed to reflect the idea, especially since Sheeva took things so seriously. “I want to.” He finished, determined. “Besides, I wouldn’t have taken your advice and started training like I am if I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, yeh kin be stubborn like that.” Tyler pointed out with a huff. Tazaro opened his mouth to protest, but he scoffed and felt his lips curl in a smile.
“Gee, thanks.” He chuckled.
“I’m serious. It’s a good thing. Yeah, we fought a lot growin’ up, but I’m proud of the man yeh’ve become. Yer a damn good kid, and I mean that.”
Tazaro felt the overwhelming humility and dropped his head.
“Thank you.”
When Tyler began to question Sheeva about what type of things she had Tazaro doing, Tazaro stood and released Jax from his room, guiding him by the collar to the living room so that he didn’t immediately pounce on Sheeva. Jax kept his head propped in Tazaro’s lap as he scratched behind his ears, tails thumping on the floor as the three of them talked well into the small hours of the night.