before the dawn

but baby i've been here before; i've seen this room and i've walked this floor

Would that he could see the future, Remi might not have done things differently. No, he'd never intentionally do wrong by Ronin, but for all the upset his actions were sure to cause (and had already), he had to believe that he was allowed this. If he, after everything the pair had been through, could not cross vast distances just to steal a look, a touch, a laugh two days sooner than he would otherwise have received them...then perhaps Remi truly was lost. Perhaps he deserved to die all the times he nearly did. Because if he could not love Ronin on his own terms, then it was all for not anyways.

Amalia's voice is a distant note on the breeze, one that doesn't make Remi raise his head. The snow is so blissfully cold, and Ronin is here. Finally they are together again; through the pain, the Alchemist has no idea just how far away his husband in fact is.

When his hands are suddenly thrust around something—the gesture making him wince and cry out as his shattered fingers are forced into motion—he immediately feels the healing light pour through him. "I...had to see him.." Remi manages, when finally he has the strength for words. Unable to do more this round, until he has healed himself more, Remi merely slumps his newly-healed hand onto Ronin's knee, as he pants weakly in the snow.

---

HP: 80/144