Book IV: Avi Dragon

A Decent Proposal

"It was the only thing we could come up with. It was that, or have her memory erased, and I won't have that on my conscience. Not if I could prevent it." Shelly stood tall and proud, which, if you knew her well, was a clear indication that she'd Shifted recently.
   Angel might not remember what Shifting did to his mother's lifespan, but Avi did. The knowledge haunted his eyes, and was reflected in hers.
   :I'll trust you not to make my sacrifice meaningless, my son.:
   His chin dropped to his chest. :Yes, ma'am.:
   She stepped forward to hug her boy. He hung on to his mother as tightly as he dared, a few tears dotting her shirt.
   Angel tentatively touched his back, and even the baby waved her arms at him. Shelly surprised her by dropping a hand down his back, to grip her fingers with surprising strength. It was the younger woman's hand that cracked, but she wouldn't let on.
   Avi flexed his hand against his mother's shoulder, trying to ease the ache whose cause took a moment to sink in. He drew back enough to tell his mother to kindly not break his dragon.
   Shelly let go, and they all chuckled.
   "I've heard of an ice breaker, but I didn't know it could be literal," she said. "Gracious, your hands are cold!"
   Angel sniffled a laugh. "Yeah, 'cold hands, warm heart' is what they say. Been hearing it my whole life." She picked up the baby and snuggled her close. "May you never inherit Mama's circulation, huh? Hmm, let's see..." She pressed one chubby hand to her lips. "Nope, warm as a summer day." She gave it a loud kiss, which made the baby gurgle happily.
   That's definitely a keeper! Shelly took several photos, heart melting when her son checked the tiny "feetsies" for warmth. His beard tickled the sensitive baby toes so much, she giggled until she got the hiccups.
   She might have become upset by them, except the adults all thought it was the cutest thing they'd seen all day. She beamed up at the grown-ups, hiccuping merrily for a whole minute. When there wasn't another one to be heard, she got a tiny frown line between her brows.
   "All gone," Angel chirped, keeping her voice as light as it was when there were hiccups. She didn't want to teach her to do things for attention. She made a fuss over Menolly for another full minute, as a sort of reward for not faking hiccups, but also to show her that they loved her, even without the funny noises.
   "Okay, you've had enough fun. Gramma's turn," Shelly decreed.
   There was a strange reluctance to hand her over, but she did relinquish her hold on the baby. Shelly flashed her son a questioning look.
   :Past trauma. I'll explain later... what I know, anyway.:
   She nodded at the baby, making faces at her, to try to counter her mother's anxiety.
   "So," Mike said, drawing out the word to get their attention. "Back to the matter at hand..."
   It was arguable who reached for whose hand first. They tensed at the same time.
   "Does she know, then?"
   Shelly blew raspberries into the baby's tummy. "All she knows is that the mother of your child can become human." She looked him square in the eye. "I didn't do the heavy lifting, no."
   "You don't have--" Angel started to say.
   Avriel pivoted on his heel and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Don't say that. I heard you the first time." He squeezed the hand he still held, just shy of the point of pain. "You're wrong." He dropped his hand from her face and sat on the bed, facing her. The white imprint his fingers left gave him momentary guilt that faded as fast as his mark did.
   He took up her other hand, flipped both so her tattoos showed. Her eyes sparked a warning he recklessly ignored. She saw his intent, fought him every inch of the way. But she hadn't regained her strength. What little she had, she'd given to the baby.
   "Don't," she begged, her voice husky from their silent battle.
   He kissed each wrist in turn; her silent, futile rage burning at him from the inside, warring with the passion she couldn't fight, any more than she could fight him.
   "I have to try." His eyes pleaded with her, asking for something she didn't want to give.
   Tears spilled from angry Christmas colored eyes. "Of course you do. There's just one big, huge problem. You. Don't. Know. Me. I don't know you. That's not a very good place to start."
   His jaw set, more determined than she'd seen him, with her current memories. "I know enough."
   Her teeth ground together, almost audibly. "No, you don't! You've got this... this idealized image of me, from when I was literally an angel--or part of one. You don't see the skin covered in scars, the teeth I don't have, the curves that shouldn't be there." She yanked one hand free to hold up fingers that had been twisted and stunted by years of being crammed against drawing paper, and wrapped around pencils. "You don't see me!" The weathered, crooked hand shoved weakly at his chest.
   "You're wrong." He covered her hand, trapped it against his heart. Her head jerked back warily. "I saw you from the beginning. The outside wasn't what I liked, it was your... well, for lack of a better word, your soul."
   "Would this be the same soul that was pushing you away, marching along like a military general? The soul you shoved back into this body, because it was too alien?" She gripped a fistful of his shirt, shaking him for emphasis.
   "That wasn't you!"
   "Wasn't it? How do you know?" She leaned closer, nearly nose to nose with him.
   "The way you reacted to Kapa's training. How you are with the baby. The willingness to give up your own life for another. The strength that's been constant throughout, the stubbornness-- which may be an issue in the future. You're too damned stubborn to accept what's happened, or that you might actually deserve it. I've seen your soul, and it's beautiful."
   Her shock at hearing him swear only gave her momentary pause. "If you knew what it took for me to become strong, and independent, you'd know why it's so hard to give it up."
   "So tell me."
   She sat there, hands gone lax, longer than he liked. "To make a long story short, I've found that I'm... prone to becoming codependent on another human being, when given the opportunity. To be told that I'm literally bound to someone..."
   She snatched her hands back, clapped them together, wrists up; as though the tattoos were handcuffs. He winced. "It's a bit of a setback, to say the least. How do I keep me separate from you? You never did say, the last time I asked. Got any ideas?" She glared at him, her wrists now "bound" in front of her chest.
   "You love me." He covered her hands with his own, over her madly beating heart. "Try to deny it!"
   Anger briefly flashed, before she slumped in defeat, her chin resting on his knuckles. "You know I can't do that." Two tears splashed onto the skin of his outer wrists.
   She was so thoroughly beaten that she forgot to hold her wings in. They snapped out, one of them glancing off the IV bag. She winced, but didn't cry out. She set her forehead on his knuckles, the nape of her neck exposed.
   The symbolism wasn't lost on him. His teeth ground together, at war with himself.
   "Would it really be that bad, married to me?"
   His words, the pain behind them, snapped her out of her bubble of misery faster than a bucket of cold water. Her head whipped up with supernatural speed; a remnant of her contact with Gabriel. Her hands flipped around to grip his, right where they were against her bosom. "Of course not! It's not you I'm worried about!"
   "And since she can't lie, can we get on with this? I don't know how much longer your mother can keep the baby quiet." Mike was doing admirably well, dealing with his first glimpse of a dragon half-Shifted. His voice barely trembled.
   The younger parents' heads turned toward their daughter simultaneously. In this one tiny, adorable thing, they were united. They wore matching expressions of apology. Both yearned to hold her, and make it all better.
   Mike made shooing motions. "Hurry up, would you?"
   They even laughed the same way. "Not exactly romantic, is it?" he chuckled.
   She sighed. "It never is."
   His face set in an unrecognizable mask. "Hell with that."
   While she was still reeling with shock that he'd sworn, again, he hauled her to his chest by their clasped hands and kissed her senseless. Everything, everyone else, faded into the background.
   And this time, she let him in. That first contact sent a jolt clear down to her toes, and she was distantly certain the readings on the monitor would have a nurse bolting in at any minute. But those thoughts were far, far away, in a body she'd left behind. She was also faintly positive she'd just exploded into atoms that didn't know how to be a person anymore.
   They remembered what they were supposed to look like, when someone tapped on their shoulders. Two souls plopped back into their respective bodies quite abruptly. It took awhile for eyes to focus again, brains to click into gear. They were too stunned to even be embarrassed.
   Until the world slid into focus again, and Mike was standing there trying to frown at them, and only half succeeding. Then they wore matching blushes.
   Still in a daze, Avriel slid off the bed, onto one knee, keeping hold of her hands. He said her name--her real name--as though it were the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. "Would you do me the honor of being my wife?"
   A small box was pressed into his shoulderblade, where Angel couldn't see it. He let go of one hand and reached behind him to take it. To her, it would have seemed like he took it from a back pocket.
   Her eyes, large and not quite focused yet, widened further when he flicked the box open with his thumb and held it out. It didn't matter what the ring looked like. The fact that he had one at all spoke louder than a hundred choirs.
   She couldn't have said a word if her life depended on it. Shock, and the aftereffects of the kiss, rendered her mute.
   Fortunately, she didn't have to use her voice. She nodded, once, eyes filled to the brim. :As you wish,: she said, a wealth of emotion that couldn't be conveyed with mere vocal cords singing accompaniment.
   He let go of her hand long enough to take the ring out of the box and slide it over her fragile, slightly crooked finger. She smiled, even as tears left gilded tracks down her cheeks.
   He stood to give her one quick, solid kiss to seal the deal. It was all he dared, with the company in the room.