It seemed they were of like mindedness, keeping each other as close as they could, seeking touch and reassurance. Nightingale felt the memory fresh in his mind now. The more he thought about it the more he recalled and he exhaled heavily.

I'm so sorry, Ger, he whispered softly. His head shifted, coming down to plant small kisses on Ger's tears. Thinking of how awkward they'd been when they'd first started to explore their relationship. How quickly they'd leaned into lazing in the shade cuddling, how Geraint had quickly been the most important wolf in his life, even before his own family. And Nightingale had always put the Touchets first.

If it is heaven...

Nightingale didn't entertain the thought, he picked up on the meaning. He knew their past, as they'd shared enough of it, and he simply planted another gentle kiss, trying to lift the other out of their dismay. Tears were staining his own face now.

Never again, love. We go together for hunting, for scouting, I'll always be within earshot of you, or by your side, his voice quivered as he said it, hoping to ease the raw emotion.

Never again, Nightingale told him. Never again while they were still breathing, Geraint added on silently, in the quiet of their own head. It would be a cold day in hell before they died before their husband again.

The kisses helped, and part of Geraint melted. They listed to the side, leaning into the touches with a shuddering sigh. It had really been far, far too long, too long of blistering anger, of rage, of a predominant focus on revenge, then on Nightjar, then on revenge again. But Nightingale was in front of them again, none of their family for miles and miles, and for now they could relax.

The memory hit them like a ton of bricks. Briefly, they stiffened, before letting out a guttural noise. The feeling of once loved teeth at their throat, looking into the eyes of the little whirlwind they’d saved so long ago, had taken her from their mother’s long grasp, only for her to become that vile woman anyway. She’d taken everything from them, but she’d also set them free. Her and their brothers both existed in a liminal space between love and hate, where Geraint didn’t linger overlong.

One more stipulation. They murmured.

If you see anyone who looks like me. Run. My family is the reason I’m here They couldn’t have known that killing them would bring them back into the circle of Nightingale’s arms. They’d just done it, and hoped for the best. And that involved their throat, which they subconsciously cleared.

It was hard, to imagine what Geraint must have gone through. He chuffed softly and gave a few more kisses, across the top of Geraint's head as he breathed in his partner's scent. The stipulation brought him pause and he tilted his head a little.

The words Geraint spoke made Nightingale's gaze darken, his whole expression hardening as he met his mate's gaze. For you, I will avoid them... Unless they are putting you to harm. Then, well, we'll see how well my father taught me.

Nightingale had been reluctant in his fight training, but Walter had been insistent.

They almost wanted to say it already happened. The words bubbled at the tip of their tongue, ready to be unleashed like a storm. But, gently, they pressed their teeth to the tip of their tongue. Instead, a laugh rumbled up from somewhere in their diaphragm.

I can teach you too. That would make them feel somewhat better, at least. But that was for later. Right now, Geraint had Nightingale, and a field of flowers, and the shivery feeling that came after the adrenaline rush was over. They lifted their head to place it atop Nightingale’s, taking as deep a breath as their lungs would allow.

I missed you. This still didn’t feel real, but it had to have been. If it wasn’t, it was the cruelest thing the universe had ever done to them.

The laugh was unexpected to say the least. The offer to teach him made Nightingale soften a little. They could certainly spar with one another, refine any old skills. Improve his own. He had the size to back it up, between his heft and height. He'd been the tallest of his siblings after all.

I missed you too, he murmured softly. I remember... I remember a time when you disappeared. But I don't know anymore if that was recent or not. He sighed a little and murmured some before pulling back and looking around them. Taking in the flowers in the snow, the forest, the meadow as a whole. It wasn't home. it wasn't anything he'd ever seen before.

Let's find somewhere to hunker down and catch up, he offered, his words soft.

A time they had disappeared. Geraint’s ears shriveled back, laying flat against their skull for a moment before they shuddered a breath, low and painful.

I can’t apologize enough for that. I never wanted it. They remembered what happened, in disjointed, spastic flashes. Teeth, the ground, hot fire scorching through the lines at one of their back legs. It had remained unusable until their demise, but it had never slowed them. The same leg gave a faint ache, as if to tell them their body did remember what happened quite well.

Its been..years. For me. Alone, spiraling, paranoid, kept afloat only for Nightjar’s sake. Without her, the madness would have taken them sooner. That red eyed curse of rage that had festered and festered until they were swallowed whole. Geraint gave a shudder all over, but allowed Nightingale to pull away as they pulled themselves to their feet.

After you. They would lurk at Nightingale’s haunch like a reaper for the foreseeable future, that they were all too aware of.