Book IV: Avi Dragon

Unsatisfying Answers

She woke first, having had the most rest of the three of them. Each time she opened her eyes, she felt the need to pinch herself. His long, feathery lashes rested against cheeks that were far too hollow. There was just enough light to see the freckles that she'd drawn a few times, and never gotten right. They begged to be kissed, but she didn't dare. He knew her, sort of, but she didn't know if he was as wonderful as he seemed to be. No one was perfect. Not even him.
   She kept wondering what the catch was. Nothing worth having was easy, so what would she have to do, to... what, keep him? She wrinkled her nose. He wasn't hers, no matter what it looked like. She was his Guardian, and their children were more of the same. She didn't know how she was supposed to protect him now, when she couldn't even walk down a snowy street without fear of falling on her arse.
   Ach! Can I not even look at a beautiful man without picking everything apart? She mentally shook herself, snuggled a tiny bit closer. Nothing worth having was easy, and this felt awfully easy. She inhaled deeply, relishing the moment because she didn't know how many more moments like this she would have. She impulsively pressed her lips to his shirt. He was asleep, but she would remember the experience. Mercy, they were right! He's got muscles under there!
   A chuckle vibrated against her lips. She burrowed her skull into his chest, mortified.
   "And who, precisely, are 'they'?" he asked. She wanted to slap the grin she could hear without seeing, right off his face.
   "Anyone who's gotten to hug you. It's damned near legendary by now," she growled into his shirt.
   Her breath was warm through his nightshirt. He shivered, which she felt through the skin on her forehead. She thought briefly about doing it on purpose, but that was playing with fire. She was old and wise. One did not tempt a dragon with empty promises.
   Not that I'm terribly tempting, she thought with a scowl.
   "I'd prove you wrong if I could," he rumbled. She couldn't be sure where the warmth below the belt originated, because they both Felt it. She hoped it wasn't coming from him, because there was still a sleeping infant between them.
   That, at least, he could do something about. He pushed up slowly, to avoid waking her. He eased her into the car seat, buckled her in, and set it on the chair by the bed. If she'd been a normal baby, he would've set her on the floor, but his dad was right. She didn't lean hard enough to fall over.
   Instead of lying back down, he sat facing her on the mattress.
   "Can I ask you something? It's been bugging me for months."
   She stared at her hands, folded loosely in her lap. "I don't know that I'm the right person to ask," she demurred.
   "You're the only one who would know. I've asked before, but... I don't think you told me everything." He lifted her chin with one hand, so she could see the conflict in his eyes. "Please."
   As always, all it took was that word, from him, asked in earnest. She nodded wearily.
   "Why did you do it?"
   Her brow puckered. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific."
   "Why did you... You said you knew you'd come back, but... you died for me!"
   Her hand flew up in a reflexive gesture he knew well, before he finished the last sentence. She didn't even seem to notice. Did he ask her if she just cast a spell, or let it pass?
   They might need magic later, so he let it pass. For now.
   "I don't remember dying. I'm told that's normal," she said dryly.
   He blew out a puff of frustration. "You said he came to you, told you they needed you, and that's all you needed to know. I don't understand why you would literally die to protect me."
   "Oh, is that all?" she growled. It triggered a small coughing fit. He handed her tissues and waited for it to pass.
   When he said nothing more, she looked out the window to gather her thoughts. "Did I tell you that I don't contribute anything significant to society? I don't work, can't even keep a volunteer gig. People don't really... get me. So I sit in my apartment, with my cat, and try to find ways to pass my 'life sentence'. I got the message after a while: no early release for good behavior.
   "So I draw, write, crochet, but everything is... average. There are better artists, and worse ones." Her head lolled his way for a moment. "Average, by definition. Same with everything I do. I'm not great, not horrible. Stuck in the doldrums of mediocrity, wondering why I'm supposed to stick around.
   "Well, apparently someone came along and told me why. If that was an angel, I'd be sold--emphasis on 'if', of course."
   He laughed. "Yeah, you said you had silver and holy water by the bed, and salt at all the windows and doors."
   Her head swung around again. "Well, if nothing else convinced me, that'd do it. No one knows about that, except a few of my friends you wouldn't have met."
   He plucked her hands from the blanket and held them so she couldn't turn away again. "But that still doesn't tell me why you'd die... for me."
   She was confused. Then her brow cleared when she heard what he didn't say.
   "You don't think your life is worth the sacrifice." He couldn't deny it, nor could he look her in the eye. He stared at their joined hands instead.
   "Why did it have to be yours? I don't... It's not a straight exchange, a life for a life. Why would He... I couldn't accept that kind of 'gift'." Here, he did look up. "You were living a half life. No one man is worth that."
   She slipped her hands from his, cupped his face tenderly. "Whether or not you believe it, you are. And besides, it's not just you. The kids protect the rest of the band." She tried a smile, and only partially succeeded. "Stow the ego for a bit, would ya?"
   He didn't succeed any better at smiling, but he tried.
   "He sent dragons to protect y'all, right? Well, who was most likely to embrace such a gift?" She waggled his head side to side, hands buried halfway in his hair. The O2 monitor snagged a bit, but neither noticed. "That'd be you, in case it wasn't as obvious as the freckles on your nose."
   That startled a genuine smile out of him.
   He tapped the end of her nose. "That still doesn't tell me why you think so little of your own life, that you would throw it at the feet of the first angel to come calling. Especially when you didn't know you'd get your body back."
   She snorted, hands dropped to his chest. "This old thing? Nah, I was better off without these shackles."
   He covered her smaller hands with his longer ones. "Sweetheart, I've seen you without it, and you were not better off." Her hands clenched under his. As usual, he hadn't noticed the endearment.
   "I'd much rather be a dragon," she snarled with surprising heat.
   He set his lips briefly against her forehead. "You merged with your dragon half, so maybe you still can be a dragon. Maybe you're like me, like my mother."
   "What?" He'd forgotten to mention that part.
   He grinned down into her startled face. "We are the last known dragon family. I'm a dragon on Mom's side. She says I can Shift someday, if I practice enough."
   She wrinkled her nose. "So you're saying I'll have OT and shapeshifting practice to do?"
   He kissed the tip of her nose. "Yes ma'am, and no skimping, either. If you want to be a dragon again, it's going to take just as much work as they'll put you through here, maybe more."
   "Eh, nothing worth having is easy."
   Avi groaned long and loud, set his forehead against hers. "I swear, you and my mom are gonna be the death of me with that expression."
   Angel laughed, but it was a tight chuckle. He didn't seem to think twice about dropping kisses on her nose, or her head, but every one rattled her nerves. It was hard to hold him at arm's length long enough to get to know him, when he was rarely actually at arm's length.
   "You know, the harder you push, the harder I'll push back."
   Shards, I don't even have privacy in my own head, she grumbled.
   :You'll figure out how to block me. You did before.:
   :Oh sure, say that in my head and rub it in why don'tcha?:
   He laughed. :I'm not apologizing this time. You've had a huge barrier up since day one. I'm enjoying this while I can. It's nice to know what's going on in this complicated brain of yours, once in a while.: He flattened the braids against her skull. :If you won't open up, how am I supposed to know what to do? What not to do? Even being psychic doesn't help if you shut me out again.: A light splatter of tears hit her fists.
   The last word hit her in the gut. Apparently, she'd been pushing him away--the thing she was trying to do now--the whole time they'd known each other. It only made things worse. How, then, did she retain a sense of self, in a relationship where they were Bound clear down to their bones? She valued her independence above most other things.
   :You don't have to be so strong all the time, you know.:
   "Yes, I do. It's the only way I know to survive."
   He saw the grim determination in her eyes. He'd seen it countless times, that iron will. It was the one constant throughout her evolution. He also saw the bleak void behind it. She said that happiness never lasted long. She seemed to expect everything good in her life to vanish into that void, leave her more empty than before.
   That's why she fought so hard. If she never found happiness, she never had to watch it get taken away.
   :The more I want something, the less chance it works out,: she agreed. :So I just... stop expecting good things to happen. If they do, I don't take it for granted.:
   :You keep waiting for that other shoe,: he realized. She nodded, the hair on their foreheads meshing into one calico patch.
   :You've got some pretty giant shoes to fill,: she said. The words "when you leave" hovered between them, unsaid but heard nonetheless.
   Before he could think about it too much, or give her any warning, he tilted her head back and kissed the daylights out of her. The moment his lips met hers, time seemed to stand still. The shocks of the previous kisses were magnified twofold. It wasn't lips to skin; it was far more potent than that. It nearly robbed him of breath, and all he'd done was press his mouth to hers!
   Neither of them were breathing very well. Only one of them was on a monitor, tangled in his shirt though it was. One of the nurses poked his head in to see why she was having trouble breathing, and very quickly ducked back out.
   She was content to keep on as they were. He tried to persuade her to open her mouth, but she wouldn't. He tasted broth on her lips, and something faintly unpleasant, but barely noticed.
   He let go of her long enough to ask her to let him in. She rumbled a distant chuckle, lips pressed firmly together. :Not a chance. I know what's been fermenting in here, and you don't want any.:
   He'd forgotten about the tubes, and the bone broth. He settled for learning the contours of her face with his lips. Lavender light lit her lashes where they lay on her cheeks. She shifted on the bed, craving what was currently impossible. Her hands restlessly knotted and unknotted fistfuls of his nightshirt. The relatively chaste kisses wreaked havoc on them, their personal reactions amplified by the Bond bouncing it back and forth between them. He felt his own arousal, combined with hers, and she was in the same boat.
   If she hadn't been in hospital, all of their good intentions could have gone out the window. Fortunately for their honor, she was in no shape to be doing what they wanted to do. It would take time to get used to the amplification that a telepathic bond created, and they had lots of it.