Comes and Goes in Waves

i'll turn myself into a gun, because it's all i have, because i'm hungry and hollow

It’s the first night.

Since it happened.

Some unrecognizable voice in Nate’s head tells him the first night will be the hardest. He recognizes it as the same voice that had whispered that he’d get used to the tides too.

He thinks maybe he wants it to be hard. Thinks he wants it to keep being hard. That was just his lot, wasn’t it? Fuck, even this had been because he’d come back early, because he’d though for a moment something pulls be easy. That he could have an easy few days wrapped up with his family, finally settling again.

What a stupid thought.

Hotaru lays beside him and he wonders if he could leave the room before she noticed. His body still trembles, just slightly, when he moves too fast, and he still feels the sharp ache of hunger in every bit of him. He doesn’t need to be fast if he’s quiet though.

Nate sits up, painfully slowly, and shifts, trying to plan his next move, to get past the slumbering shape of his wife, and Pemota. Past Haai. Pauses, like he’s not quite sure how to continue, if he really wants to anymore.

and just want something to call my own

NATE

Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight

Sleep should come easy, she thinks. If the world was fair, or operated on even the most basic of rules for physical entities, she would have found Morpheus' realm within moments of hitting the sheets. As if the world has ever been fair before. How she even ended up here is a muddled thing in her mind, but Nate is at her side, silent and stiff, and that had been...not enough, but something of great enough magnitude to help slow her rabbiting heart. Once more she is in their bed with only one of them, not both, and this does not feel like a victory for all that Shaju is dead and Nate returned. Still, exhaustion is prevalent. When was the last time she slept through the night? The evening before Remi and Ronin's visit, she thinks. She'd spent most nights after that sitting up in bed or by the fire, ears tuned for Sunjata's nightmares, determined to be there to awaken him before they worsened too far. Then, after Kiada, she'd not slept at all. Going from the Road to Aumakua and straight into the arms of the crowd that had gathered for the showdown.

Exhaustion pulls her down, but it's nothing like the deep ocean of true restful sleep. It's more like staring up through sunlit water, barely submerged, where the world is muted and slow but within arms reach. A teasing mockery of restfulness.

When Nate sits up and shuffles, panic kickstarts her brain, eyes flying open before she consciously considers it. Disoriented, her hand flies to wrap around his wrist, terror temporarily all she can feel as her pulse quickens and her breathing kicks up. "Nate?" comes out a little garbled and confused, as if calling out for him for reassurance without recognizing she has already grabbed him. She may be the only one to have escaped uninjured from this mess - something she hates herself for to the core - but she is not without trauma. For all she's reluctant to crowd him, the mere idea of  him leaving for any reason sparks fear in her heart. Sitting up a little more, vision blurry but eyes stubbornly wide, Hotaru tries to get a look at his face to determine what's going on. "W's wrong? D'you need something?" Already trying to cast off the pitiful vestiges of sleep to prepare to do or retrieve whatever he needs. To try and make herself fucking useful for once.

HOTARU

i'll turn myself into a gun, because it's all i have, because i'm hungry and hollow

The motion beside him freezes him instantly, and the hand around his wrist stops even the facsimile of breath in his chest. It doesn't last long, the sound of his own name starting a tremor through his body, guilt overtaking him in a sickening matter of moments. All at once his eyes are damp and his throat is tight, emotions that he doesn't know how to feel, let alone share, rushing through him. He starts to turn, slowly, as Hotaru begins to rise, and it only seems to make everything worse. His brows pull together, and his voice shakes like a leaf when he answers. "No. I don't nee... I'm sorry." Just because he wants all of this to be someone else's problem doesn't mean he wants to inflict it on her. If it could just be distant, if he could just put on his mask and be fine, then all of this would be so much easier to bear.

Somehow, the thought that this could be easier doesn't remove the blankness invading his eyes, something he tries to hide by reaching out to pull Hotaru into his lap, and settling against the headboard of the bed. It's comfortable, he thinks. It's close, and grounding, things he thinks he might need, even if they feel wrong to seek. Even if he doesn't think he cares all that much about making himself feel better, maybe the cool weight of his arms, and the stubborn solidity of his body will help Hotaru.

and just want something to call my own

NATE

Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight

To her human eyes, Nate is shrouded in darkness, and with the blur of her eyes it's even more difficult. Bracing her elbow on the bed, she reaches her free hand up to rub harshly at them, blinking hard to try and wake herself up to ready herself for whatever he needs. The shake of his voice, at least, is something she can attune herself to, and before he is even finished her head begins to shake, golden hair swaying. "No, no, I just- gimme a moment-" her mumbled words are a little clearer as she manages to shuffle up onto her hip, needing just a few seconds more of clarity so she can conjure up the right words. It seems these days those are all she has.

He takes the choice from her, not that she resists in any way as he drags her into his arms to perch on his lap. It's a temptation to say the least. For all he may lack in body heat, he makes up for in familiarity and comfort. The exhausted part of her - beyond all reaches of logic and emotion - begs for her to lay her head on his shoulder and indulge in the haven he is offering. It takes a great degree of mental struggling, but Hotaru manages to avoid the desire, straightening in his grasp to squint a little up at him. One hand rises - slow, telegraphing each movement, as she had in old days with adopted children in her kingdom who had suffered trauma beyond their years - and gently lays itself upon his jaw. "s'okay, love. I'm here. Do we need to go walk?" Clarity finally begins to return. He had been intending to leave the bed, and Hotaru won't abandon him to pace or suffer alone. Not when she finally has him back.

HOTARU

i'll turn myself into a gun, because it's all i have, because i'm hungry and hollow

Hotaru squirms, shifting in his arms, leaving Nate to wonder if he can even do this right anymore. Maybe he's lost some measure of comfort, or humanity, or something, something stolen away by the ocean in more ways than one. A pale hand rises, Nate's jaw already tensing, almost aching with the anticipation, but when Hotaru finally connects he leans into her hand, his mismatched eyes closing tightly.

He thinks about the smoky and charred lower floor. He thinks about the trampled garden outside the front doors. He thinks about the crash and pull of the ocean, beyond the doors and the cliff. He thinks about how long he'd have to stand at the edge of the cliff for that pull to grow into a call, into an invitation. "No. We don't." It's nice, to have simple questions to answer, even if his mind makes them into a production. Nate manages to open his eyes, even if he doesn't quite manage to meet Hotaru's gaze, his jaw working like there's something else he's trying to get out, and his arms tightening almost painfully around her.

"I... didn't mean to wake you." He finally manages to grind out, his voice gravelly.

and just want something to call my own

NATE

Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight

He has nothing to fear, but she has no way of knowing the thoughts behind those eyes, so similar to her own now. It's hard to continue the motion when she sees how he tenses, but the way he melts into her palm afterwards is the only comfort she needs. Her thumb brushes under the tensed lines of his eyes as he shuts them, and her heart aches anew with her own helplessness to fix...well, anything. His injuries, his memories, what he currently struggles with. That she came through unscathed from these past few days is the world's worst travesty in a line of long ones already scattered throughout her history.

It's a mostly baseless offer, but his denial at least narrows down what she can think to give him. Praying that she can give him something at all, for both their sakes. It doesn't give her any further ideas, but it at least gives her a starting point. It's better than nothing. Though his distant gaze staring down between them only makes it harder to pinpoint exactly what she needs to do. His arms squeeze around her, constricting, and she forces herself not to make a noise. Whatever he needs, she will give. No matter what.

"It's okay, I'm fine," she assures, voice soft. Neither of them are, but she's willing to lie about the sleep portion at least. Her thumb continues to smooth over the small portion of unscarred skin that seems to remain these days. "What can I do?" Reluctant to ask, if only because Hotaru is sure he doesn't know either. Instead she leans towards her hand, pressing a kiss on the path her thumb has traced, keeping each touch in places she has already claimed as neutral ground. Nothing further, trying to remain aware of his boundaries.

HOTARU

i'll turn myself into a gun, because it's all i have, because i'm hungry and hollow

The reassurance has Nate nodding, whether or not he really believes it. He decides he does, which has to be as good as anything, right? He just wishes he could apply the same logic to himself, wishes he could say ’I’m fine, really’ and believe it. Maybe one day. Nate’s train of thought is derailed by the question that has him swallowing thickly, unwilling to answer with I don’t know. There’s nothing else to say though, is there?

It takes him far long er to come up with something than he wants to think about, his brows pulling together as Hotaru’s lips brush against his face. ”What you’re doing.” It’s not more, but the want is implied, especially as Nate shifts to lean in close, trying to hide his face in the crook of her neck. He’s trying to drown the world out with the sound of her pulse, the feeling of her warmth, however dull both of these things are.

and just want something to call my own

NATE

Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight

As his silence unfolds, her thumb continues to stroke idly across his cheek, tracing the same rhythmic path in some meager hope for comfort. Perhaps for the both of them. She is not content per se, in waiting for his silence to break, but more than willing all the same. This type of healing cannot be rushed. It may never be fully finished. All the same, she will be here to help guide him through it, to give what she can and support where he needs it, until the day comes where the wound is no more than a scar that only twinges faintly with old memories. That is the best she can hope for.

He leans further into her embrace, and she flicks her hair over her shoulder to allow him sanctuary in the crook of her neck, pressing closer until there is no space left between their bodies and lifting her arms to his shoulders to help block out the world. Releasing his jaw only to card her hand through his dark hair, even if he cannot feel it in the same way he used to. "I have you," she assures softly, needing to speak no louder. "We'll find him. I promise. And I was thinking..." her voice trails, wondering if this is something she should be bringing up, or if he wants to hide away from the knowledge of the empty space in their bed for a few hours. It's too late to turn back though, and she bites her cheek - still yet to heal from her fight with Sunjata, a new habit she is unsure she can break - until the blood flows anew. "I want to ask Frey for something that will keep us all aware of where the other two are. Is there a piece of jewelry or armor you don't yet have?" Hotaru infuses the last bit with a teasing tone, trying to distract him with other thoughts, no matter how shallow. Perhaps her voice alone, thrumming through her chest, will be of some use. There's so little she can offer him right now, but it is all his for the taking.

HOTARU

i'll turn myself into a gun, because it's all i have, because i'm hungry and hollow

The unannounced but clear implication Hotaru thought there was still a chance for Sunjata has something that’s trying it’s very best to be hope running through Nate’s chest. For too long, he’s pushed his hopes to the side, he’s never dared to put any stock into them, for fear they’d be dashed, or thrown away. ”I believe you.” A near silent murmur, offered in a voice that sounds like wind rushing over a desert dune where it’s pressed in against his wife’s neck.

What would he do without his family? He would be reduced to a snivelling, drink soaked version of himself.

And from there they move right along into the future, a prospect that seems nearly impossible to consider, with how the world is growing around then, dark, lonely corners spreading. Still, Nate devotes a comically large amount of time to the question, his brows furrowed in silent thought. ”Something... for my wrists, maybe?” Wide and thick and sturdy, if he’s lucky, or  loud, if he’s less than lucky. The tease in her tone catches along the edge of some deep desperation, Nate jaw working against Hotaru’s porcelain skin suddenly. Working, and shifting to reveal teeth, poised to sink into her neck before he realizes what the part is, and snaps his mouth shut again with a click.

and just want something to call my own

NATE

Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight

She will be his hope, no matter how long it takes for Sunjata to be found. Perhaps it is her defining feature; hope in the face of insurmountable evidence against it. It has buoyed her across endless oceans in her early years, and she prays it will not fail her now. Not when this time, there is someone else counting on her to be right. "Good," she replies softly, cocooned in this bubble they've created for themselves where the rest of the damnable world can't reach them. "Have faith in me. In us, in him. We have always found our way home." All of them, no matter the circumstances. Hotaru will be the light that guides them home this time. She will not let that burden fall on her husband, not when so much else weighs down his shoulders undeservedly.

His answer is hoarse and stilted, but she doesn't mind. Though she's not the talker in their little family it's a role she will take up for tonight - if only to let the cadence of her voice hold away the onslaught of memories that seems to plague him. She can't reach behind for where his wrists are positioned at her lower back where they hold her, so instead one hand falls to his bicep, fingers trailing listlessly. "I can do that," she assures. Frey may be the creator of the item, but Hotaru has faith the deity would not mind a little specificity. "Maybe some extras, holsters for a dagger or scalpel, something to hold -" she cuts off as she feels the shifting of his jaw and the gust of breath against her throat. No pressure of teeth yet, but it's a familiar enough sensation to have her words cutting off in anticipation. There is no fear, though perhaps there should be. Instinct if nothing else should summon some form of self-preservation, eons of evolution warning against incisors at her most vulnerable area. Regardless, it does not come. Even traumatized, potentially unstable, he is not someone - something - that she fears. Though whether that makes her too trusting, too willing to place herself on the pyre for her loved ones, may yet to be seen.

The click of his mouth shut spurs her back into life, and the hand still playing with his dark hair gently finds and squeezes the column of his neck. "It's okay. Do you need it?" Is he running low and she simply hadn't noticed? Panic grips her at the notion, pulse rabbiting against his mouth, terrified to have overlooked something so basic and necessary in the aftermath of...everything.

HOTARU

i'll turn myself into a gun, because it's all i have, because i'm hungry and hollow

”I do.” The words tremble so hard it’s difficult to tell if Nate even believes them, but Hotaru is right. She had found her way home. And Sunjata can’t be gone, not really. He had wings, he had fins, he had all manner of boon and shape giving him ways to escape the tempestuous abyss of the ocean.

Even now, Nate can’t understand what it was they’d done to trick Hotaru into carving out a place in her heart, but he’s glad for it. Glad that despite everything, despite the terrors and grief, he’s not alone.

It’s really not a question of does he need it? The answer is simple. ”No.” He breathes weakly, still so close his lips brush against her skin. He wants it though, so badly he aches, that it actually consumes his thoughts for a moment. ”No I don’t.” But the words don’t stop him from leaning in closer. He isn’t hungry, but there’s a pressure and an itch in his throat. There’s a burning house in his mind that needs to be doused, and this might be the easiest way. He presses in closer to the frantic beat of Hotaru’s heart, into the warmth that he can almost feel rolling off her.

And he bites.

At once, his hands grow tighter, trying to pull her closer, like maybe if he tries hard enough theyll never separate again. A soft groan leaves Nate, all painful bliss and satisfaction, the feeling burning away all the shadows that have crept into his mind, replacing them with this blissful simplicity.

and just want something to call my own

NATE

Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight

His faith helps bolster her, chasing away the shadows of her own doubt. Hotaru's strength has long been a fortification built on the protection of others, and this is no different. He needs her, and so she will be what he needs. It's as simple as that. There is no alternative, no crumbling or breaking. Perhaps not the healthiest way to cope admittedly but it helps ground her to the present all the same. To him.

The soft response is strained, but the lips that touch her skin are gentle, dragging with the simple syllable in some facade of a kiss. There's something more there, lurking underneath his denial. As she tries to parse the clues that have already swept by in the short nature of his reply, he speaks it anew, and she is distracted instead by the movement of his body. He is a distracting man as is, even now in the depths of the darkness that has swallowed them both, leaving them clinging to one another lest they lose each other before light is found. Her body is attuned to his, arching as he molds himself closer, heedless of the thoughts that fizzle away in preference of reading what he is telling her physically.

All of that washes away as he bites, the points of his teeth breaking flesh and singing along her nerves like an electric shock. Hotaru's gasp is loud and unbidden as her thighs clamp tight around his middle, hands clenching at his bicep and in the pillow-fluffed tangle of his hair. The pleasure of his bite is something she'll never be able to brace for; immediate, all-consuming, like flash paper going up in a display of light and heat. "Nate!" His name warbles on her lips, technicolor in the backdrop of her closed eyes that squeeze shut in bliss as her nails rake into his skin. Certainly not what she'd been expecting when she'd awoken, but the pleasure chases the fears away as surely as any heart-to-heart would, and Hotaru is not shy when it comes to using sex to cope. Especially not with someone she already loves, and who suffers alongside her.

HOTARU

i'll turn myself into a gun, because it's all i have, because i'm hungry and hollow

The bite wipes out everything, all the shadows, all the darkness, everything but him, and Hotaru. A rough hum leaves Nate as he hears his own name drop from Hotaru's lips, nearly as distracting as the electric touch of the bite. And distraction is what he needs right now, what he wants to sink into. Hands sweep over the abandoned's back, fingers pressing and squeezing against her skin, pulling her even closer. Some bright, hateful voice in his head tells him to not linger here, to not get too greedy, to not take too much, and yet he can't help himself.

Nate shifts, moving so he's over Hotaru, her back on the bed, and he finally pulls away then, distant eyes looking over her. "I love you." He murmurs, lips stained red and the easy, distracting buzz fading all too quickly from him. Darkness creeps in again, a low, mournful sound pulling itself from his throat. He leans in again, lips dragging at her collar, teeth dragging against her skin, finding a soft place to bite again as his hands move to pull her shirt up, to reveal skin in a slow, needy motion.

and just want something to call my own

NATE

Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight

If the bite for him feels anything like it does for her, there is simply no room for things like fear and trepidation. There is only the sizzle of nerve-endings, the abrupt flashburn of heat between her legs, and the overwhelming surge of pleasure that leaves her dizzy and distracted. She may notice the lack of an extra pair of hands perhaps, but they have never been a necessity for her to enjoy Nate in this way. There is no pulling back or request for him to withdraw. As willing a victim as a naive lamb to slaughter when it comes to giving him his fill of her blood, and as trusting as a pious man basking in the love of their god, sure that he will take what he needs without harming her in the process.

Preternaturally smooth hands skim up her back and she arches into the touch willingly, gasping when his teeth release seconds later. Knees already softened and thighs trembling, Hotaru twists easily onto her back as he lowers her to the bed. Buried in cloth and fur and with eyes only for the fire in his own. His voice, and the words that are shaped in it, caress as firmly as his hands against her skin. Her heart rabbits, a flush of something far more potent than pleasure lighting up her skin in hues of red and pink. "I love you too," she whispers in the dark, a guiding light to bring him back in to her gentle shores where they both might find respite from the storm.

There is no time to find his hand and hold tight. Instead there is the lukewarm ghost of his breath, the feeling of quick-chilled blood being smeared from his lips to her skin, and then there is nothing more as it all bleeds away beneath a second bite. This one brings her over the cusp into the orgasm the first had threatened, and she cries out in sharp staccato as her thighs clench together and her head thumps back against the pillows. There is no chill as he pushes her shirt up, skin far too hot in the wake of her pleasure to feel the spring air in any way. One hand gripping the sheets until the knuckles go white, the other reaches with trembling fingers to find the back of his neck and squeeze. Encouraging, yes, but needing to ground herself as well amidst the rock and swell of pleasure.

HOTARU