En otra vida, en otro mundo podrá ser

When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you way from war

He runs to the Northaven, scrawling out his latest response to Flora as he goes. Fortunately, Remi is home, and through the stitch in his side, he's able to plead for travel assistance from the Bastion. He'd not normally prefer to involve the dads when she's dealing with a threat more private and emotional than some sort of external alien force or other bestial risk, but he doesn't have an opportunity to be picky this time since she's at the top of the world, which is not only far but fiercely guarded by swarms of dragons.

Promising to ensure she's as well as she claims in the parchment and to get her back safely, Kaisel departs from Remi, squinting across the amphitheater ruins, which have grown wild with time. He pies the familiar sails of the Sugartide not far, and begins to clamber his way there, striding through vegetation like it's a tide. Ever mindful of the dragon's that dot the distant skies, and wary of sheep that like to butt in up here, Kaisel closes the distance. He begins hollering before he's close enough to climb up the skyship, breathless still from the first moment her message came through.

"FLOOOOORAAAAAAA!"

---

Kaisel

If you need help, I'll shut down the city lights

flora

Flora has all but crash-landed the Sugartide in a riot of alpine flowers and crushed grass, the kind of landing that would usually earn a laugh and become a story for later, but she has not laughed once. She has been curled in her bed ever since, heat clinging to her skin, the tank top damp, her underwear slanted on her hips, face scrubbed bare by tears that would not stop coming. Her curls are a mess around her shoulders, tangled and wild, and she has not bothered to fix any of it, not when the world has already split cleanly down the middle. At least until the sound of Kaisel’s voice cuts through it all like a lifeline.

Flora jolts upright, heart slamming painfully hard, and she is off the bed before the echo has finished ringing, bare feet pounding against the floorboards as she stumbles for the stairs. She does not think about how she looks, does not slow herself, does not even fully register that she's moving, and he is suddenly there, solid and real and close enough to touch.

She makes a broken sound that might be his name and might just be breath tearing loose, and then she is flinging herself into his arms, fingers clutching at his shirt as if letting go would send her spiralling right back into the thin air above the world. Her face presses into his chest, tears soaking through the fabric as they spill fresh and hot down her cheeks, her body shaking with the force of everything she has been holding together until now.

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you way from war

Nothing immediately stirs around the grasses and the flowers that lap up the hull of the Sugartide like earthbound waves. He continues towards the ship then, intending to do a sweep, hoping to find her there. If he doesn't...he'll upend every leaf around here if required. Fortunately it doesn't seem he'll need to, because though no yell answers back, he hears the telltale signs of movement thudding its way through the ship. Urged on by new certainty, he clambers up to the deck more quickly, nearly missing a rung up the ladder as his haste carries him. "Flora!" he calls again, just in time to see the gold crown of her hair rising from the stairs belowdeck, bringing her into full view as her own rush carries her forth.

He only has a moment to take in the heat-stripped, sorrow-soaked sight of her before she collides into him, the force pushing him back a half-step before he steadies the pair of them. He surrenders the thin cotton of his starwhale-patterned shirt to her without complaint, arms folding around the sag of her body with as much security as he can offer. "Hey, hey, I got you, it's okay," he supplies in hushed tones, the tremble of all her feelings vibrating between them. He bows his head to her, cheek applying pressure atop her, trying to fold her into as much embrace as possible, shielding away the rest of the world as best he can.

He wonders, but doesn't ask, not yet, confident she'll explain in some measure or another. For now, he just works to hold this fresh tide of despair, unworried about them being on the top deck when the world has only flowers and wind watching them. Heat rises like a threat where their bodies connect, small enough to ignore for now, but building steadily towards the wet seal of sweat.

Kaisel

If you need help, I'll shut down the city lights

flora

An explanation tries to claw its way up her throat the second his arms close around her, the words already half-formed and useless all at once, and then a sob breaks free instead, sharp and humiliating, collapsing the whole attempt before it ever reaches daylight. What is she even meant to say to him? That seeing Jack hurt? That being met with that much cold felt like having old scars torn open, that an apology rejected can still ache like a fresh wound? None of it feels fair to lay at Kaisel’s feet, and yet gods he'd come running just because she asked, all to see her crying over someone else.

The guilt lands hard and sudden, even as the tears keep coming, hot and unstoppable, and she hates that she is pressing them into his chest at all. These are tears meant for Sohalia, meant for quiet rooms and closed doors, not for the man she loves now, the one who has shown up without hesitation.

Flora shakes her head against him, breath stuttering as she tries to pull herself back together, whispering a soft, breathless, "thanks for coming," the words barely making it out. She draws back just enough to look up at him, hair a mess around her face, eyes red-rimmed and shining, her expression caught somewhere between grief and being utterly lost. "I’m sorry, I—" she starts, and then falters, another sob hitching painfully at the back of her throat as she shakes her head again, helpless and painfully aware of how wrong this feels, crying over an old love in the arms of the man who has given her nothing but everything.

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Dark shapes wheel through the sky above, wings cutting sharp silhouettes against the clouds. A few Perytons circle the cliffs, gliding effortlessly on mountain currents.

They dip and climb in smooth arcs, occasionally crying out as they pass overhead before banking away again.

The group remains aloft and watchful, never settling, their presence a constant motion against the still stone.

---

Perytons Areas Found: The Draig Cordillera — Uncommon Perytons have the body of a deer and the wings of a great bird, a strange and striking blend of grace and power. Their plumage and pelts vary with their environment, allowing them to melt into forests, cliffs, or open skies. When they remain still, their camouflage is so complete that they seem to vanish entirely, often revealing themselves only when startled into flight. Challenge Rating: Difficult HP: 5,631 | To Hit: +83 | Dmg: 130 Movement: Walk 40 ft.; Fly 60 ft.; Leap 20 ft. SPECIAL SKILLS Stillness Shroud: Complete invisibility when unmoving; Loyal Companion: Bonds deeply to hybrids once trust is earned; Elevated Roost: Prefers high vantage points for safety and observation

TRAITS Hybrid Form: Combines the agility of a deer with the wingspan of a raptor; Masterful Camouflage: Vanishes from sight when perfectly still; Keen Eyes: Can spot movement and threats from great distances; Swift Takeoff: Launches into flight with powerful leaps; Silent Glide: Wings beat softly, carrying it without sound ACTIONS Stillness Shroud: Complete invisibility when unmoving; Loyal Companion: Bonds deeply to hybrids once trust is earned; Elevated Roost: Prefers high vantage points for safety and observation

When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you way from war

He can feel the shifts in her as attempts rise and splinter, nothing more than air bubbles seeking surface from the drowning, giving nothing back in return but their own escape. "Just let it out," he encourages, one hand rubbing back and forth against her back, trying to provide some modicum of comfort when all of hers appears to have been wrenched away. The concern he'd been harboring since her first parchment contact had lightened, faintly, upon seeing her and gathering her up. It returns with vengeance now though, settling deeper than before, because what, exactly, happened? She claimed he didn't hurt her, yet he's seen her break down before and it's never been as ruinous as this.

A thought flares, like a match striking in the dark, letting him glimpse at memory better. She didn't say he didn't hurt her, she just said he didn't touch her. He hasn't had the space or time to catalogue wounds on her, though he's not panicked to do so based on her message, but now he's wondering if they're not ones he'd be able to see anyway. Clearly Jack did something.

His teeth set together, clipping the thought with an increased worry that he's got nothing on hand to help with something like that (has nothing for the exterior ones either, but at least she'd have her ring for those). Tea, maybe, something warm and calming. Maybe summon Remi back for a touch of his magic, but...not yet. He just got here, and however perplexed he is on the details, he's confident that together they'll manage. That confidence falters, just a touch, when the first words she manages to set free feel like a business greeting. "Shut up," he scoffs, squeezing her tighter for a moment as if he could squish some of the senselessness out and remind her of who she's talking to. "I'll always show up for you. You never should have to thank me for that."

The next hiccup of voice does little better, and the confusion only continues to settle. "Hey, shhh," he tries to soothe again. "You never have to apologize for this either," he murmurs, shifting to press a kiss into her hair. It's then the shadows wheeling nearby catch his eye again. Not so draconic in shape, but closer, the perytons still more dangerous than anything he'd like to tangle with right now. It urges him to usher them inside and below deck after all. In fact he's half a mind to throw her in a cold shower if she's going to keep spouting nonsense like thank you, and I'm sorry, as if this is the first time they've had to hold each other through hardship.

"C'mon Ro," he advises, shifting to tuck her into his side instead and guide her steps back down. "Let's get you some water, or tea, and some tissues. Just breathe, for now."

Kaisel

If you need help, I'll shut down the city lights

flora

Flora huffs out something that almost counts as a laugh when Kai tells her to shut up, the sound breaking unevenly against his chest as she shakes her head, curls brushing his shirt. It is a relief, that certainty of him, the way he dismisses her gratitude like it could never be misplaced, even if it still matters fiercely to her. Gods, it matters so much. She has needed people before, called for them, waited with her heart in her throat while silence answered back, and she cannot help the quiet insistence of it even now. "I always will, though," she mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, voice muffled and earnest. "I won’t ever take it for granted."

She does not see the shadows wheeling overhead, does not register the danger he clocks, only goes willingly when he turns her toward the stairs, clinging to him as they descend into the cooler belly of the Sugartide where Spice has done her quiet, diligent work to banish the heat as much as she's able. The heat eases its grip as they move below deck, and Flora keeps both arms looped around Kai's middle until they reach the bench by the kitchenette, where she finally lets herself sink down.

She draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms tight around her shins, folding in on herself like it might keep the worst of it contained. Her breathing stutters as she fights the sob climbing her throat, mind spinning too fast, too tangled, every version of the truth splintering the moment she tries to line it up into something coherent. How could she explain this? How could she give shape to months of grief and fear and unfinished hurt without bleeding all over the person she loved most?

Flora looks up at him then, eyes red and shining, expression small and mournful, and her voice comes out barely above a whisper. "I think I need to tell you something," she says, the words trembling under the weight of what they carry. Fresh tears spill over before she can stop them, sliding hot down her cheeks as a sob finally breaks loose in earnest now. "But I don’t know how."

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you way from war

Her insistence on the matter of gratitude could almost make him roll his eyes, almost, if not for the fact he's still creasing under her touch, concern wrinkling in deeper with each minute she remains choked up. Whenever she has become a force of her own tide before, explanation and tears have rushed out hand in hand, the story swept up in the flood of Flora's feelings. This feels almost intentionally held back. This, feels like something too heavy to float, and so it continues to sink inside her. He doesn't like it one bit. They have always talked, even if it sucked. Especially when it sucked. So what is she holding onto now?

As they descend the stairs, an awkward procession given the small quarters and the lack of desire in either of them to let go, the retreating degrees are blissfully felt. He glances over the tucked in shape of Flora in search of the little dragon, quietly beseeching some kind of answer, even if it's just a warning. Anything that might prepare him for what's lodged itself so firmly through her. His jaw pinches in as he bears down on the name of the Captain, unsurprised that he's involved somehow.

He finally releases her to the seat, and the way she curls in on herself is so reminiscent of the aftermath of Dahlia that his gaze can't help but drift to the location of the scars, well mapped on her body by now even if clothing covers them. He half suspects to see blood seeping through, but there's no obvious stain. Loath to leave her in such a state, he moves quickly to gather what meager aid he can. The Sugartide has become something of a second home to him now, so he moves with a soldier's efficiency through the spaces, the action somewhere to place the gnaw of his worry, teeth set into stride instead of thought.

He deposits the cup of water on the table, the glass clicking faint and water shifting in near-threat of a spill. An eye roller is also set down, to help with the puffiness of her tears, and the tissues are deposited too, arranged almost like offerings to a god. He's not sure who he's praying to here, support maybe, understanding he hopes.

What she says next chills him on the spot, keeping him rooted instead of immediately sliding in beside her as he'd been intending. Although he's beginning to think he should be sitting for whatever this news is, he's stock still, leaning in on each ragged exhale like it might be the one that spares him. "O-okay," he drops his own voice to something low, unintentionally mirroring her as the moment starts to tighten. His mind wheels, imagining every chaotic possibility that could make her this upset and this afraid to say it. His hands flex at his sides, subconsciously trying to find something steady to grip. "Is it me?" Cold doubt begins to trickle in. "Would it be easier...if I turn around? Or, put on a wig or something and became, I dunno, Kathy?" A weak smile flashes, offering the joke up like a distraction, like a grounding opportunity for some reassurance this tide doesn't mean to drown them.

Kaisel

If you need help, I'll shut down the city lights

flora

Flora barely registers the movement around her, the clink of glass or the careful placement of things meant to help, because all she can see is Jack’s back turned to her, all she can hear is the flat certainty in his voice as he tells her he does not care, that she has taken enough from him already. The memory makes her flinch, breath catching sharp and painful in her chest, and when Kaisel starts to speak, it takes a second too long for the words to land at all.

She blinks up at him, focus snapping into place just enough to shake her head, fast and immediate, a hand shooting out to clutch at the edge of his pocket. "No," she breathes, urgent despite the way her voice trembles. "I can't tell this to anyone else." Her lips part and then close again; the words refuse to line up, jammed behind the pressure of everything she has never said out loud, and all that makes it past the knot in her throat is a broken, croaked, "Jack—" before the sound collapses into a sob she barely manages to hold back, shoulders heaving with the effort of restraint. Saying his name feels dangerous, feels like lighting a fuse, but now that it is out there she cannot stop, cannot let Kaisel imagine the wrong thing, cannot let this rot quietly between them any longer.

This was a promise she made to herself, to Jack, to the version of him she loved fiercely, a way of protecting what had been real even after it shattered. But the secrecy has been eating her alive, and after one minute in his presence has left her in ruins all over again, she knows she cannot keep carrying it without breaking something far worse between she and Kai.

Her fingers tighten on Kaisel’s pocket as her face twists with the force of what she is about to do, eyes squeezing shut as tears spill thickly over her lashes. She drags in a breath that hitches painfully, then opens her eyes to look up at him. Her voice barely makes it past the space between them, the words small and fragile once they exist at all. "Jack’s a telepath."

There is more to it than that, so much more, layers of context and nuance she has carried quietly for months, and she knows it will all have to come out now, sooner rather than later, because the truth has finally cracked open. But this is the centre of it, the keystone she has been holding alone, the explanation for almost everything from how she fell in love with the Captain to why she is shaking apart now after barely a minute in his presence.

The weight of it lands all at once, heavy and sickening and Flora’s face drains of what little colour it had left, her grip slipping from Kaisel’s pocket as a wave of nausea rolls through her hard and fast, adrenaline curdling into something sour and unbearable. She barely manages to get to her feet before she’s turning away, hand slapping against the counter for balance as she stumbles toward the kitchenette. She makes it to the sink just in time, body folding over it as she throws up, the heave sharp and humiliating, brought on by the crash of everything at once and the sudden, sinking certainty that she has broken the very last thing that possibly lingered between she and Jack.

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you way from war

The suddenness barging in on everything that had just been suspended and uncertain ricochets into him with a flare of goosebumps. Hairs on every part of his body stand on end, even his scalp seeming to fluff up, unnoticeable with the mess of hair he sports, but the crawl of the uneasy sensation felt as it sweeps over his head and settles into a quiet roar of quickened pulse in his ears. "Okay," he says again, more certain, but no less quiet as it attempts to soothe the new disturbance that ripples out.

When she begins to struggle again his own mouth parts, trying to conjire something helpful, a coaxing even, if need be. An assurance, though he doesn't know why she'd need it, that he won't hold whatever this is against her. He already has a guess, at this point, the whirlwind of thought settling on the only logical thing that could be splintering her so thoroughly. He's already begun to brace for it, feigning a strength that is rapidly crumbling away from behind the front-facing display of it, no better than a faded prop left on an empty stage, smiling because it's painted on. Seems all their dramatics have amounted to nothing more than this.

"Jack—"

The name splits the air with such an electric charge that for a moment, Kaisel's eyes lift from the sorrow-puckered shape of her face to warily regard their surroundings, near certain lightning will appear to cleave through them. He breathes in, slow and with a steadier pull than he thought possible.

If Jack did not harm her, as she claims, but he is the root of her current state, which is in such disrepair as Kaisel's ever seen, then he can only conclude that the older love finally won out. That this confession that sits behind her teeth and casually chokes her with sobs and snot, is not what Jack has done, but what she is about to do. Dimly, he glances down at the link between them, her hand still clutching his pocket, weak and meager compared to the tether he feels binds them. He wonders briefly, if she's tucking away the last of her love for him into it. Each promised forever and every laughed dream of a future, balled up like lint and receipts to be discarded later.

He does wish he'd taken the seat now, but somehow he's still standing, though the floor quietly beckons as he blinks down at her grip, edges blurring with assumption and desperate fear. Her grip tightens, which is exactly what you do before snapping something, and patiently he waits for the break. It never comes.

At least, not the line between them. Something in her splits with all the sting of a rubberband finally giving in, sending her across the space, tumbling and bouncing to the sink. He gawks after her, every crumbling piece of peace seizing as her words repeat over and over again. He's thoroughly shocked, but not for the reveal, for what didn't come. He does sit now, not by choice, and not really, but he staggers back and turns in the wake of her retreat so that his ass leans against the table. He reaches for her glass of water and takes two big gulps, eyes never breaking from her as she bends over with vomit. He'd normally be there behind her, helping tug her hair away, but right now his hands shake around the cup as he sets it down.

He folds and unfolds his hands in front of him, fingers curling in right and then smoothing out. He works against a swallow, spit flooding his mouth faster than usual. A palm rises to brush over his forehead, pressure deepening as he tries to smooth out the creases of his mind, as if he could manage it from the outside. His head hands into the curve between his thumb and forefinger, and he drags in a loud breath that releases shortly after with the faintest laugh. "That's...it?"

Kaisel

If you need help, I'll shut down the city lights

flora

Flora stays folded over the sink until the worst of it passes, breath coming shallow and uneven, the world tilting unpleasantly beneath her feet. When she finally straightens she feels light-headed and hollowed out, colour leached from her face as she reaches for a hand towel and wipes at her mouth with shaking fingers. She turns toward him slowly, chest still heaving, panting faintly as she tries to drag air back into lungs that do not seem interested in cooperating.

She hears Kai distantly, like he's somewhere far away, and his words hit her harder than the nausea. Flora’s mouth parts, eyes widening as if she has misheard him, as if the ground itself has shifted without warning. That’s it? The secret she has carried for years, the reason everything with Jack was volatile and consuming and broken, the reason love had felt inevitable and ruinous all at once, the explanation for who Jack became and what he took from her without ever meaning to and what he gave, the weight she has borne alone in silence because she promised she would. The promise she has just broken, finally and irrevocably, the echo of it still ringing in her ears. The reason she asked Kaisel to come to the top of the world so she would not have to hold it alone anymore.

And he laughs.

Emotion ripples across her face in quick, unguarded succession; disbelief first, then hurt sharp enough to sting, followed by something brittle and defensive snapping into place as if her body has decided it cannot afford to be soft right now. She clutches the towel to her chest and stares at him like he is suddenly impossibly far away, leaning back against the counter and wrapping her arms around herself, tank top doing nothing to shield her from the sudden chill that has nothing to do with temperature. "Sorry," she says, a hollow edge creeping into her voice as she lets out a small, incredulous scoff of her own, "is breaking the biggest promise I ever swore I’d keep not enough?"

The world feels like it has dropped out from under her, like she has just laid herself bare in the most vulnerable way she knows how only to have it brushed aside, and the realization leaves her reeling, standing there pale and shaking as if the lighthouse has finally claimed its due. Somewhere, she's sure Jack is laughing.

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you way from war

With his head pressed into his hand, gaze turned down to his toes, he doesn’t catch the ripple of feelings that laps against her features. It might have tempered his own response more if he had, though it’s hard to say if knowing would have resulted in anything actionable, given he’s reeling through his own wild pattern of emotion. After stacking up such monumental dread, relief rushes in so thoroughly that he feels momentarily euphoric. It leaks through on a groan, cutting across the frost that attempts to creep towards him.

His hand slides down from his forehead, tugging along his face and peeling his mouth apart before it slaps to his leg. Another absurd exhale of mild laughter escapes, the sound of frayed nerves reconnecting into a sturdier braid. His head tips back like he intends to peer directly up at the gods in gratitude for their blessing. ”No, it’s plenty,” he says on a ragged sigh. ”Fantastic, in fact, compared to what I thought you were going to say.”

Slowly, sense slots back into place like coins being fed into a meter, organized if not immediate. Not trusting that the cents have made their descent into his legs yet, he remains propped up against the table, never more grateful for it than now. Schooling the threat of a smile from his face, which is easy enough to do the moment his attention pulls from the ceiling back to her, he tests the weight of the information she gave him instead of the absence of what she didn’t, though he has no understanding of its gravity upon her. ”So, what does this mean? Did he…affect your mind with it?” Could explain the vomiting, a side effect of intense psychic damage. Concern strains on the edges of his stare, not entirely sure how to combat an opponent locked inside her head. ”Does breaking this, promise, mean a curse or something just got triggered?” Warily, his gaze lifts to the top edge of his view, searching for some manifestation of an impending threat.

Kaisel

If you need help, I'll shut down the city lights

flora

Flora stands there clutching herself like she might split apart if she loosens her grip, the towel crushed against her chest, shoulders curling inward as if she can make herself smaller by force of will alone. His relief hits her in waves she cannot quite reconcile, the laughter landing wrong, echoing too loud in the small space, and for a moment she feels utterly unmoored, like she has stepped sideways into a version of the world where nothing is weighted the way it is supposed to be.

Her fingers fidget at the gold of her invisibility ring without her meaning to, thumb rubbing at it until the metal warms beneath her skin. She has wanted to disappear before, plenty of times, but never from Kaisel, never like this, and the impulse startles her even as it lingers, a sick little itch at the back of her mind. Her arms tighten further around herself, tank top wrinkling beneath her grip, breath shallow and uneven as she stares at him like he is speaking a language she no longer understands.

For a suspended second, doubt creeps in, insidious and sharp. Maybe she is overreacting. Maybe all of it had been inflated, magnified by love and fear and secrecy until it felt catastrophic when it was really just... this. A thing to be laughed at. Maybe she had been trained to treat Jack's secret like a holy thing, something fragile and sacred that would destroy him if mishandled, and now she is standing here with it broken open and being told, in effect, that it is fantastic, or even mundane. But then she remembers Koa’s face when she told him. The way he had gone still, the way understanding had settled without her having to justify the weight of it. The way he had seen her in it and understood what it had meant.

The comparison lands like a bruise she did not know was there, strange and unwelcome, and the hurt sharpens into something dangerously close to betrayal, even if she knows that is not quite fair. Still, fairness does not stop it from aching.

Flora blinks, hard, eyes bright and unfocused, and finally she finds her voice, thin but steady enough to carry. "What...what did you think I was going to say?" she asks quietly, the question hovering between them like a last attempt to orient herself, to make sense of his reaction before everything tilts too far to recover. She does not answer the rest of it; right now she needs this one thing, needs to understand where his fear had gone and why her truth feels so small in its wake, because without that, she is not sure she can make him see her at all.

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you way from war

The wrongness that’s building between them settles with greater notice on every breath, as much from time as the motion of pulling in fresh air. The sensation trickles in with the same pins and needles of an appendage going numb, rising above the diluted relief at last. As one does, he pushes on the phantom feeling of something that ought to be there, but only prickles with a feigned distance. ”Flora?”

Instead of trembling with continued throes of bile or despair, she’s become quiet, smaller. That might be waved away as an ordinary response to the upheaval of all she’s feeling, literally and figuratively, but the distance she keeps between them as if she needs it isn’t. His concern deepens into trenches on his features, brows molding confusion in along the banks.

He shifts off the table, ignoring the questions that pop up like daisies as the roots of understanding what she’d said continue to thread into him. For now, he’s more interested in erasing this distance before it stretches any further, the kitchenette suddenly feeling like a field. He reaches back to grab the glass as he goes, offering the water out to her and the residual acid she’s carrying in her throat as he steps in beside her. ”Here,” he murmurs.

What she asks in return, so cleanly brushing aside the rest, tightens the edges of his mouth back into the risk of a frown. ”It’s stupid,” he tries to reassure, one shoulder limply rising as his head shakes in its own sense of self-disappointment. For all his usual confidence, it’s always been flimsy where the Captain’s concerned. A continual aftershock of being so well bested—nearly killed—before he even realized what’d been happening. A wariness of Jack’s foothold in her heart, knowing it’s impossible for her not to draw comparisons, and always wondering if the length of their history and the depth of her devotion aren’t proof she’ll realize she chose wrong. Afterall, the love she shares with him had bloomed out of salt and the corpse of what she left behind with Jack.

Every reassurance, every day they wake up together, it’s a balm that he thinks has healed him. It might, if given a chance to cure properly, but how easily the cracks reform at just the mention of Jack’s name, and how ridiculously often that finds its way into Kaisel’s conversations. Add to that her panic and salt spray, and it’s a wonder Remi didn’t cart splinters up here.

He’d prefer not to admit to all this. Figures with enough practice, he can fully pack Jack away and keep him from popping free however long the handle is wound against the box. Kaisel’s trying to just believe in what Flora and him have instead, the way she’s told him to, the way anything opposite of feels like failure. Especially now, when she needs him strong, which makes the cracks all the more obvious, he fears.

He sighs heavily, hand fluffing through his hair. He’d prefer not to, but the only time he’d ever held anything back from her, it’d been one of his worst choices. He’s not about to start adding more to that list now, least of all when she outright asks. ”Since you said you were unharmed, but were so upset, and you’d run into him after all this time, I thought…you were going back to him.” His gaze has ping ponged around the space, lovingly familiar now, preferring the glimmering reminders of forever over watching disappointment cloud the rest of her emotional storm. ”I thought this was goodbye.” Not that he would have said it, but hearing it from her would have done more than leave cracks.

Kaisel

If you need help, I'll shut down the city lights