Crimson Tides (Tartaglia x Reader)

Chapter Six

Hours passed. Or was it days? The constant disorientation, the pain, and the manipulation blurred together into an endless cycle of suffering and confusion. You could feel your strength waning, your mind beginning to fray under the pressure. But still, you held on. You refused to break.

Dottore, however, seemed content to push you as far as he could. And each time you thought you couldn't endure anymore, he would ease up, allowing you just enough respite to recover before starting again.

Until, finally, a different sound broke through the madness—the faint but unmistakable roar of rushing water. You blinked through the haze of exhaustion, barely comprehending what you were hearing.

Dottore's smile faltered for the first time. "Hmm. He's here."

A surge of hope coursed through you. Tartaglia.

The room trembled, and before Dottore could react, the door to the laboratory burst open with a violent crash, and Tartaglia stormed in, his Hydro blades drawn, his expression a mask of fury.

"Dottore!" Tartaglia's voice was like a blade, cutting through the tension in the room. "You're done."

Dottore's grin returned, though it was tinged with annoyance. "Ah, Childe. I was just—"

Tartaglia didn't wait for him to finish. In a flash, he was at your side, cutting through the mechanical restraints with a single sweep of his blade. You collapsed into his arms, barely able to stand, but the moment you felt his presence, the crushing weight of the past day lifted.

"You're safe now," Tartaglia whispered, his voice rough but full of concern as he held you close. "I'm sorry it took so long."

Dottore watched the scene unfold with mild amusement. "How touching. I do wonder how much longer this loyalty will last."

Tartaglia shot him a deadly glare, his grip on his blade tightening. "If you ever touch her again, you'll find out just how far it goes."

Dottore merely chuckled, stepping back into the shadows. "We'll see."

Tartaglia wasn't wearing his usual clothes, but a thick, white cloak, covered in snow from outside, and combat gear strapped tightly across his chest. His face, normally so cocky and playful, was hardened with fury, his jaw clenched as he scooped you up, holding you close against him. The tension in his body was palpable, the cold flakes on his clothes pressing against your feverish skin. The warmth and safety of his arms were enough to make you sag against him, all the strength you'd been holding on to finally draining away.

You felt like a burden, it was time after time you were saving each other. More like Tartaglia saving you from avoidable situations. It felt like your whole time together was a flame riding along the tides. It works in the wrong way. It's not meant to be.

"Hold on," he muttered, his voice barely audible above the sound of his rapid heartbeat. "I've got you."

The room continued to tremble, a sign of the fierce battle raging outside. Tartaglia's arrival had clearly not gone unnoticed, and Dottore's machinations were falling apart. But as the Harbinger disappeared into the shadows, you knew this wasn't over.

He was testing you both.

Tartaglia's grip tightened as he shifted his focus. "We need to move before Dottore changes his mind about letting us go so easily. Can you stand?"

You tried to nod, but your limbs felt like lead, your muscles unresponsive after hours of strain and torment. "I... I don't know."

Without hesitation, Tartaglia knelt, adjusting his hold on you. "Don't worry about it. I'll carry you."