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Anguish is exhausting. It works by gripping the mind and pulling it down, further and further, with the weight of the whole sea. Marcus had met anguish so long ago, it had become a dear friend. With each long stride of his, the sound of torment rattled in his pocket like old coins. It was a reminder of the person he was, even if he sometimes forgot not everyone breathed as uneasy as him.
Never in his life had Marcus felt rested. Exhaustion followed him throughout the day, and into his bed. A companion he did not remember inviting inside his home.
His friends weren’t as familiar with the drainage of energy that anguish caused. But they understood after hours of being trapped, with nothing else to do but wait for something. They didn’t know what, or when, so they were left to constantly worry.
Fatigue, in defiance of their instinct to retaliate, got to them somewhere in the twelfth hour. They did not sleep, however. As if that could even be possible when her blood still stained the same concrete they sat on. But their limbs felt too brittle from being tense and prepared to flee.
So, they formed small clusters, for warmth and comfort, and closed their eyes.
Jun had come back to consciousness some time back, her sister scanning gaze being the first thing she was met with. Instantly, Jun realized her eyes were the only thing she could afford to move. Everything else had been abused beyond function.
It hurt less now, she noticed. She did not recall what'd happened after she was removed from her friends's company. Not that she actively seeked to remember, but the void left was terrifying.
She stayed beside Saya for a while, attention hopping to Petra as their gazes met. Petra, within the arms of the two boys she loved, let go of a deep breath. The relief swelling her lungs was long overdue.
Petra did not ask if Jun was okay. Neither had her sister, even when Jun knew the both of them needed the reassurance.
They did not ask, because they would not force her to lie.
Jun was a long distance from okay. Miles away from health, and life as life should be.
Petra smiled at Jun, a small and weak gesture that meant words Petra had learned that very second. The girl closed her eyes again.
"He passed out." Saya explained as Jun grasped the inert figure on the corner. "I've been checking on him. Don't worry."
Still, Jun's eyes remained wide. Because the winces that broke his peace more often than not, told her another story. One of fire, one of unwanted guests in his slumber.
Jun knew what anguish looked like.
Something stung deep inside her calf. Her body calling her into motion, threatening that, if she did not move in his direction, it would collapse as a form of self punishment.
A hand appeared in front of her eyes, extended and open. "Take it." Saya told her. "I'll help you."
Saya, too, knew what anguish looked like. For all the years she'd ignored it in her sister's features, Saya recognized her pain now and would do something about it.
So, Jun, with the effort cities were built with, bent her legs towards her chest. The muscles in her thigh seared and wept like decaying bridges giving way to ships, but she moved.
Saya pulled her up by her waist, sharing Jun's support with the little strength she could muster.
The sudden commotion caught the attention of everyone -able to- inside the box. Billy, Lex and Petra's jaw dropped in shock. Not only was Jun moving, but she was walking. The hole in her shoulder, the missing liters of blood, should not allow that. And yet-
It was a display of will few got to see in their lifetimes. All of it for a shivering boy.
A boy who once wanted to kill her, but who mattered more than injured flesh. More than a lot of things, Jun concluded as her sight tunneled and the inches left of her vision were occupied by brown curls.
The girl knelt on the floor in front of him, the slashes on her knees reopening with the contact.
Though she blamed herself for adding fuel to his night horrors, Jun knew there was little aid she could offer him. To promise him infinite days away from harm, would be to tell a fictitious story in the shape of an oath. Marcus did not find comfort in oaths nor fiction.
Jun brought her hand to hug his cheek. Nevermind the burning of her nerves, she wiped her thumb over his brow, feeling how damp and frigid his whole body was.
Her friends watched as she buried her arms around his torso and her head into his neck. An invisible divide rose from the ground, isolating Jun and Marcus from everything else. This. This connection, forged in nightmares and death, did not fit in on Earth. It was unhumanlike. Almost as if it was meant for cosmic lovers. For the Sun and the Moon.
When he hugged her back, Jun certainly felt out of this world.
She pulled back to see his glittering eyes looking down into hers, then embraced him again. That was all she needed.
Marcus remembered he hadn't confessed. Petra, Billy, Saya; everyone else had, but he didn't feel like it.
He did now. Because he'd tell all his secrets if Jun asked him to. There wasn't a thing he could deny her, not one.
"There is a part of me that still believes you are lying." He whispered into her hair. "That the person I know was created inside a lab with the sole intention of ruining me."
Jun listened to his voice as he spoke to her, and only her.
"I am so used to assuming no good thing comes without a price, that it all being a lie is the only way that you make sense."
Break me, he begged, completely.
"But, maybe, free kindness exists." It was a prayer more than anything. "Maybe, warmth can be without fire. Without pain, without a price. That's possible, isn't it?"
