Trinity

Comfort and Chaos

The atmosphere amongst the Recombinants and their two human counterparts was noticeably lifted. Lyle regaining consciousness was the biggest factor, but Ten remembering something without it causing her distress eased all of their minds. Nothing was said about anyone's slightly teary eyes, and Ja pretended not to notice as Lopez used both arms to hug his friend. Z-dog complained that no one woke her up, but quickly stopped caring when she realized Lyle was up.

Miles couldn't look away from Lyle and his wife, and right now it really felt like she was his wife again. Not that he ever considered her not to be, but this made it more real. He tilted his head towards Mansk with an appreciative and soft smile at the comforting hand on his lower back. He still worried about Mansk feeling forced into physical contact in scenarios where he didn't want to be, but there was no discomfort within their bond.

In fact, Mansk appeared to be at ease with the situation. His thumb caressed his skin, and Miles received a fond smile when he returned his mate's affection as their tails tenderly twirled together. Doubts continued to swirl in his mind, and he knew both of them could feel the storm increasing in strength. Those feelings of apprehension didn't involve his mates though. It was with himself.

That nagging thought wouldn't leave him alone. One where he lost what he loved again and, in return, lost himself to the monster everyone knew he could be. Even with the knowledge of her wearing the ring and the exultant feelings that it brought him, he still feared losing her and Mansk. Hell, he feared losing any of them.

Watching Lopez get shot off of his banshee by her bat-shit insane mother almost sent him into a frenzy of bloodlust. It took everything he had not to intentionally kill her and continue missing his shots. Hearing about Lyle's condition had him worried. Seeing him—shallow breathing, pale skin, lacking his normal chaotic ways of existence—completely absent his expected vibrancy of life. He never wants to see that again, on any of them.

Miles is pulled from his thoughts when Mansk's hand moves from its hidden position on his back. Now, it's wrapped around his hip and pulling him against his side. Lyle flashes his eyebrows and smirks before quickly looking away to not draw attention to them. With no eyes on them, Miles hesitantly placed his hand on Mansk's lower back and received a reaffirming squeeze on his hip. They stay like that, watching everyone interact with Lyle, until Ja basically shoos everyone away.

Lyle was getting worn out and refused to say anything because, much as Miles was loath to admit, his Lieutenant was a dumbass. He tried to argue, saying he was fine, but Ja shut that down pretty quickly.

"Lyle, You're not fine. Not dead is not the same as fine." Miles is certain that if Link wasn't on top of his head, Lyle would have just smacked it against the rock he was propped up against. "I know you're tired, you need to rest."

"I've been–"

"You've been unconscious, not resting. Those are completely fucking different." Ja retorts as Miles pulls away from Mansk and crouches down next to Lyle.

"Just take it easy, Lyle." His Lieutenant avoided his gaze as if he were embarrassed for his condition. Miles understood that mindset; it was a difficult position to be in. None of them liked feeling helpless, and he knows that's how Lyle felt with injuries severe enough to leave him immobile. And considering their current predicament? Yeah, he understood.

You saved my son. Miles signed to him. Prager said the mercenaries would have killed him to get to her brothers. Stop beating yourself up for needing help after everything you've done for us. Pushing yourself won't make you heal faster. Rest.

Link carefully moved onto Lyle's shoulder and nuzzled into his neck while purring, forcing him to relax. He gave a slight nod of his head, which gave Miles cause for worry. Lyle was definitely out of energy, or he would have argued back in sign language. He'd never known Lyle to turn down an opportunity for an argument.