Never going to give you up, never going to let you down....

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"We have to keep going." Winston flashed by, a low growl all she could recognize.

Ethel still trembled and Benedict tied her to his back. "Yeah, got it." He melted forward, his eyes retaining their same stiff look. Tony stroked Neara's head gently, then shifted her to his shoulders as he changed.

Her hands dug into his fur with as much strength as she could muster. Ethel's mate...

Images smashed against the side of her brain, blurring her vision and leaking out of any orifice they could. Her Dad at her graduation, the last time she kissed her ex, rain on her way to class, when she tried to longboard and wiped out on the grass in front of the library, her sisters, Shay challenging her to a Pokemon battle in front of the English building...

Shay...

This wasn't funny anymore. She didn't let herself think about it, but it was over a year later and they were still here. Haha for living in the anime world of their dreams, fawned over by men, but her brain turned over what had happened and she couldn't escape it anymore... this was her home. Forever. And Shay wasn't a part of it anymore. Her heart closed, she physically felt it hardening, and exhaustion punched her in the face. Nothing mattered anymore. Whatever happened... happened.

When she woke, thick smoke filled a clearing as Tony berated a grumbling Benedict. "You can't let the meat sit too long in one spot! Look at this glaze, absolutely ruined."

"At least you know cooking; I was starting to think you had bees in your skull," the snow leopard growled and hit his elbow with his closed fist.

"Want to try cracking it open and find out?" Tony stood, all his terrifying height, and flexed his hands as if eager to rip the beastman apart.

"Go for it, bee-boy." Benedict crouched low, his tail lashing near his ankles.

"You're B-boy, if I remember correctly. Benny boy to be exact." Orson staggered out of the trees, dried blood flaking as he moved his arms overhead in a stretch. "So now that you've woken up the fema...women, with your awful cooking, what's next?"

Benedict scowled and kicked dirt into the fire. "Forget it. I'm going hunting." He lurched into the woods, a sharp tearing indicating his skirt would need to be repaired.

Tony growled again, frustrated, and punched a tree, the bark exploding around his fist. Neara jumped and realized she could move her limbs. Whatever the Scorpion poison was, it seemed to have worn off. Not that she knew what time it was, but at least it wasn't permanent... like living here forever. Doom filled her and the weight returned.

Ethel's chest hiccuped with the remnants of her sorrow and a cold chill passed through Neara. Her fingers outlined the jagged scar again and she thought of Aetius. What would have happened to her if she'd succeeded? What... would have happened to him? The Leopard Queen's words floated vaguely back to her, something about being without a root, dead on the inside while still outwardly healthy. But Aetius had gone through it already with his dead mate, or was that different? Not much from what she'd heard but still.

Faint traces of the fake tiger mark still remained on her thigh, but she wouldn't wipe it off without something other than spit. Shit. Her hands trembled when she brought them forward. She'd killed someone. She'd taken life and had someone taken from her, and death was a normal part of this world and she'd... believed that. But not really. Not any more than someone in the modern world believed they'd be hit by a car every time they crossed the road... a distinct possibility but no more than a passing anxiety.

Quietly, Orson sat next to her. His presence brought a stillness to the thunder within.

"In my world... I'd get locked away for what I did to him." Her voice sounded more calm than she felt, but she was grateful it didn't tremble as much as her hands. "They'd say it was self-defense or some bullshit, but I'd have to carry it with me forever."

"In your world, you probably wouldn't have been in that situation." He sighed and held out his own hands, steady and white. "I've killed more beastmen than you can imagine, in ways that would probably shock you. But you and I have... a lot in common."

Silence filled her mind, just an empty pond waiting for something to move.

"We never killed someone if they didn't deserve it. We both like the taste of stone fruit and enjoy cooking. We think our boys are important and would do anything for them. We don't trust people. We've both lost... important women." He pulled his hands back to his sides. "You're safe, now. Winston went back to get something important, but he said he'd catch up in a few days. Just rest."

Trying to figure herself out, Neara didn't hear him leave, or hear the beastman that took his place. Tony held up a chunk of meat, softly steaming. "I seasoned it with flat-leaf, sweet pine, and fall weed. Taste it."

Her mouth opened automatically and he carefully deposited the fragrant bundle inside. It stung the inside of her nose, but not unpleasantly. "And chili?"

"Yes." He smiled tenderly at her. "Now I see color on your cheeks. I was worried you'd be weakened by the sight of so much blood. You are a strong woman." He gently kissed her cheek. "I L-O-B-E you."

"Thanks." She didn't mean for it to come out as a whisper, but she couldn't make herself talk louder. Could someone have a muffler put on their soul?

"I'll get you more food." A coolness at her side, and he was gone. She looked over her knees and saw Benedict coaxing Ethel to drink from a leaf cone, her face puffy and stained red. Her back looked as empty as she probably felt.

"Do I still have to call you Agatha?"

"No, Tony, it's ok."

He wrapped an arm around her and offered the food with his other hand. He'd mashed the potatoes, wrapped it around the meat, then wrapped that with the potato skin and crisped it over the fire. Flames danced in the tiny salt crystals sprinkled on top. Surprised they remembered such luxuries, she took a bite. It missed the richness of butter, but it was probably the fanciest thing she'd eaten since coming here, not counting the bread or that stew Orson made for her and... and Shay.

More sadness rained down her face, although she'd thought her eyes too puffy to cry more. The warmth of Tony's thumb provided a sharp contrast to the wind-chilled tear. He surrounded her with safety and she looked up to try judging his expression.

His face, thickly layered with compassion, hovered above hers, his neck probably cracking from bending so low. His brown eyes looked black in the approaching darkness and he kissed her forehead, soft lips grating against the shattered pieces inside of her. She wanted to wallow, but every reason she found for staying sulky melted when his hand cupped her chin, his index finger tracing her jawline. His thumb moved over her chin as he pulled her closer and she fell into his kiss, disappearing into a moment and leaving herself behind.

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Since this one is short, I'll post up another chapter.