1x1 -- Sarish and Stormy

[stormy tom]

And James didn't buy a word of that.

So he approached and he grabbed Sarish by the front of his robes, furious, voice lowering. He was in no mood for games. Not again. How dare Sarish try to skirt around whatever issue was for sure present.

"Maybe you're telling the truth about your alter and it really has nothing to do with the issue, whatever that is," James growled. "But there is an issue. And how well do things turn out when you don't tell me? You don't want to tell me about an issue because you aren't ready, or whatever? Fine. But don't you dare lie to me Sarish. Because I'm sick of it and I won't take it anymore. I told you things I can barely process myself. And what do I get in return? Lies. Stop. Lying. To me. It hurts me, Sarish, when you hide things from me. What if I'm the problem and that's why you won't tell me? How am I supposed to know what to do? You think I have the tools to deal with that? You think I have the confidence to accept that you're lying with good reason to my face, and not have doubts? It doesn't matter who you are to me, Sarish, it still hurts. And I can't force myself to entirely believe that you're lying for good reason. I just can't."

Too much had happened in his life for him to allow Sarish to lie like this, without doubts crawling in. Too many people had hurt him. And not enough had been his friend for him to learn a few skills that could help here and now.

And James wanted to help. He just didn't know how and that made him frustrated. Angry. Why would Sarish not let him help? After everything? Why? Was he too weak, too... too much of something else? Not enough of another?

[Sarish]

(*muffled swearing*)

Sarish set his jaw, holding himself stiff as James grabbed his robes, returning the favor as his face twisted into a snarl. Leave me. Alone. I am trying to help you, I am trying to help everyone! I am trying to right the wrongs of the past, I am trying to be more than what I am! I'm tired of being the monster! I am tired of it, and you would deny it, but you have no idea! You do not know! You were not there! Let me fix things for once! Let me protect you!

"It's not always about you, James," he growled, low and quiet but deadly. "It's not about you. It is my job to be the one who can handle it all, who can handle everything and not break down at the first sign of trouble!" and now his volume was rising because he was furious. "You did not come here to find more trouble. You came here to find stability, and yet when it is there you try to knock it off its feet, insist that something is wrong. Maybe something is wrong. I would tell you if it concerned you," another lie. Because it did concern James. It concerned everyone that was here, everyone who had ever been affected by Dustin. But this was his battle to fight. Alone. And he would either win or die trying.

"Obviously you do not trust me," Sarish hissed, seeing more than feeling the flicker of powers that sparking over his vision. "And obviously you think that because your powers are strong somehow and your alter is fearsome that you can solve all of the world's problems. You can't, James! This runs deeper than you will ever know!" he was yelling now, but he didn't care. He was referencing Dustin, but he didn't care. James knew that Dustin haunted Sarish. That was nothing new. That was not giving anything away.

I am trying to atone for all of my mistakes! I am trying to be better than the monster that I am! You cannot help because you do not know, and you will never know. Dustin is none of your business! he wanted to scream it out. He wanted to push James away, he wanted to fight. His soul had not moved, but he was the snow leopard now. Pulling away, closing himself off, defensive. A solitary creature who was not fond of being challenged by a big-headed lion that thought it was superior and could fix things with a flick of its tail.

I am trying to protect you, darn it! I don't need help! I don't want help! Nobody can help! It was always me. Just me. Dustin and I.

Tonight there will be neither.

He was growling deep in his chest. Snow leopards didn't growl, not like that. It was different, louder, deeper. "You can't help, James. That's not your job. That's a good thing, too," he was spiraling, saying things he didn't mean. He was trapped, backed against a wall, and he was going to fight his way out of it. He had to. "Stop pretending that you can help. You are perceptive, but you are not very good at helping, are you?" too far, he was going too far, he couldn't stop, he lashed out blindly, desperately because James needed to back off, he needed to hate him now so that later would be easier, he needed to never want to see Sarish again, this was important, here and now...

"I don't want help from someone like you. You're just trying to elevate yourself above what you are. You're just ignoring the voice in your head. It's telling you the truth."

Sarish wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to James.

(*not so muffled swearing*)

[stormy tom]

(oh damn... betta get ready)

"I never was anything," James growled. "I might have thought I could be someone, and maybe that lasted for a while, but then I was nothing again. You don't know what that feels like! And suddenly I am someone here. I like being strong, Sarish, and I want to fix things for once instead of breaking them. Fine, I'm not good enough at that for you? What do you expect from me? You want me to fix everything perfectly, just like that, get rid of all the problems? Or what, you want me to back away and let you fix them? How long have you had, Sarish, and how good a job did you do?"

Now things were coming out of his mouth that he wasn't sure he meant either. And he knew - he knew -- Sarish didn't mean all that! But it rang true in his mind. In rang true by the added voices agreeing in earnest. He had never been a fixer. He had never been any good at it. He had no practice.

And he released Sarish and took a step back. There were tears in his eyes. Because ouch. That hurt a lot. Especially from Sarish. I'm not... I'm not trying to be the perfect remedy for every problem. I'm not trying to be in the spotlight, I'm not trying to be the best. I just want to help...

"Obviously you don't trust me either," James replied, and he backed up, voice quiet again, because this was oh so familiar. The voices, the cold stares, the disdain... he was an unwelcome presence. Only capable of causing struggle and unhappiness. He knew how to hurt, oh did he know how to hurt so well. Sarish was right. He was no good at fixing. "If you don't value my help, I'll leave."

"Run, run away before you do more damage," Striker crooned. "Go be alone. Go back to your solitude. You can'r fix anything, Hunter, but you can break. And at least when you were truly alone there was no-one in your reach that you could damage. So go. Turn tail and run, my little monster. My beast, my gorgeous creation."

So James turned, and James ran. He went to his room, he shut the door, and he huddled in the corner because he was cold, so cold... shivering. He wrapped himself in his sweater and his blanket, and he tucked his head underneath so he could cry as quietly as possible.

Like a child. Just like a child. Always like a child.

"You never grew up, Hunter. You just got bigger, stronger, taller. But you are still just a child. You have no parents to raise and guide you. No friends to support you. No future to look toward, no useful skills. You just plow through life and destroy everything in your path. And just when you think you have a taste of something good, it vanished, just like that. Oh, you held on so tightly to a friend, didn;t you. Did you think you could just have Sarish and not work for it, have that friendship without consequence and pain? You think that was going to be free, that he would put up with you forever? You can barely have a conversation without breaking down or getting angry, James. Look at you.

You are just a child. A small, weak, unstable child."

[Sarish]

(oh look, there goes my soul.)

Sarish just stared at his apprentice balefully. James didn't know, he didn't understand. That was the point. Sarish had gotten too close to an apprentice once. He had been too easy on him, had been the friend instead of the master. "That wasn't friendship," Sanjay had snarled once upon a time. "He was using you. He didn't give a damn about you." That wasn't true. It wasn't, but Sanjay didn't know enough. James didn't know enough. And there was no way in hell that Sarish was ever going to drag someone down with him again.

He had tried. He had tried to make James take a different master. He had tried to push him away, but Sarish was so damn weak. So pitiful. He was just like Dustin. Just like him. He wanted friends, but he was scared to have them. But he was different because he was scared that he'd mess everything. Just like always. Just like he was doing now.

No, Sarish hadn't fixed anything for himself. The years had done nothing for him. He thought that maybe he might be making a difference for James, but he didn't know. He was just such a mess, such a failure, such a disappointment. Nobody would care if he disappeared, not really. Not when they realized how much better off they were without him.

This wasn't about trust, but at the same time it was. This was the past that even Sarish fought back against, refusing to remember some of the elements. This was something nobody couldn't even begin to fix until he let everything settle in fully. But he couldn't bring himself to really open up. He denied everything that Dustin had done to him, good or otherwise. He wanted to see Dustin as a murderer, and nothing more. But he couldn't. Because Dustin was a person, not the embodiment of evil. And Sarish was just weak. He hid behind his aloof, solitary soul because that was all he had. Because he would break if he allowed someone else to truly know everything. They wouldn't understand, he knew. None of them would.

It had always been Dustin.

And then James was gone. James was gone and Sarish averted his gaze even though he knew that this was the last time he'd ever see him. It was for the best.

Yes.

His mind was whirling and his head was aching and he knew he was trembling, his legs giving out as he crumbled to the ground. No tears came. He was just numb. His heart twisted in his chest as he wailed into his hands. After all this time he still couldn't do anything right. He still made the wrong decisions, even though this was the only way. James would hate him. Carter would see what he had done and would hate him. Chihaya, Kareena. They'd all get a tiny taste of who he truly was. Even Sanjay. Even Sanjay would hate him eventually. They all would. They had to.

Now he had no one.

Now he was alone.

Perfect.

The day passed slowly, quickly. Sarish stood at some point, unaware of what he was doing. Everyone was in the dining hall. He wasn't sure if it was lunch or dinner. He went to the bo staff rack and easily picked his out. It was still there, still undamaged somehow. Nobody had sabotaged it. And then he was walking back, back to the tree. Back to the memories, back to Dustin. He tilted his head back and stared at the rusty brown leaves. They danced and swayed in the breeze, undeterred. They didn't care. He had to become a leaf.

Everything was alright now. He was alone. He was the guard, the lone warrior between the monastery and the oncoming intruders. He had no weakness. He would protect them.

He had to.

(thought you might want one last post before it all goes down, unless you want something else to happen between now and then. Did you want Sarish to go back to the monastery after they arrive and tell Carter everything and ask him to lie about what would happen to him? I can easily make that happen, actually, it's not at all infeasible.)

[stormy tom]

(that's probs a good plan to do that)

James refused to leave his room all day. Somehow he couldn't find the strength to get up and leave. No-one came looking for him. Why would they? Sarish had blatantly expressed that he didn't want James around. Didn't want his help. Carter would be training. Sanjay and Kareena as well.

So he sat in his room alone for the rest of the day, huddled in the corner, with only Striker and Richard as company.

At least it was something. A voice. Two voices. That was better than silence. Was it...? Was it really? Because Richard and Striker had won. They had proved their point. Their perfect monster had done what he did best, he had broken something that could never be good. Because James was involved. And he was no friend. How could he be something he had never had?

So he stayed in his room, stayed away. And his soul was silent. It had nothing to add. It just hung back in the darkness of his consciousness, letting Striker and Richard beat it. It didn't have enough strength to win today.

--

Carter didn;t see James all day, thank goodness. There was no risk of his friend finding out. But as night fell he realized he needed to make sure James truly was in his room. He placed his ear against the wall. Yes, someone was breathing in there. Good.

So Carter left. He went to his room and closed his eyes to listen. Would his dream come true? Or would something happen to throw it off like last time? Carter honestly didn't know what he could do to change the outcome of this dream... so perhaps it was best to stay out of the way and just wait. Wait and hope for the best.

Had he made the right choice in not telling James? Carter wasn't sure not. He had no idea how his friend would take it either way. Ah well, it was too late now.

[Sarish]

Sanjay was still asleep. Sarish had checked using his powers. His friend's emotions had that telltale fogginess that indicated that he was asleep. Dreaming, definitely. Sarish did not linger. He would have to conserve his strength. He was numb now, determined. The numbness was the only reason he could use his powers. Numbness was a cousin to calm, and it was close enough that it worked. Not as well as an actual calm, but it worked.

His alter had not moved. He didn't look at it. He didn't want to see it. He had to focus.

Everything had gone so wrong. But it had been necessary. Nobody would miss him, not after what he had done. That was perfect. That would make it easier. This night could go a number of ways, but if his former apprentice did show up, then he would leave. Leave in the sense of a last breath escaping his body or leaving the mountains. Something would come of this night. It would be favorable for everyone in the monastery, Sarish would make sure of it. There was no way in hell that he would die before he warned them, in the very least.

And so there he sat, and there his soul lay, and they were silent and still as the sun crept slowly down towards the horizon and the light grew dimmer and dimmer. There was a gentle breeze. A curiosity he could not explain forced Sarish to open his eyes. A similar night sky. The moon was a curved sliver, a claw. Just like the night so long ago. But it wasn't that long ago, was it? Just a handful of years, but it felt like an eternity. Fitting.

Sarish held his powers steady, surveying. Keeping watch from his seat by the gnarled maple. His eyes stayed closed. The only light in the night came from the glittering quilt of stars above, and what little illumination the moon had to offer. It was dark, silent, still, and so familiar. So, so familiar. But tonight was not the night to succumb to memories. Tonight was not the night to reminisce. Tonight was a night that had to be focused on the future, not the past. Everyone in the monastery was in danger. Everyone. Their thinly strung peace was even more tenuous tonight. It would snap so easily. They would fly into a panic and there would be death and destruction and nothing would ever be the same. Nothing.

But none of that would happen. Sarish would not let it. A thought brushed against his mind, and he smiled inwardly, though his face did not move. Sanjay will kill me when he finds out. If I die, he will resurrect me just so that he can kill me himself.

No. No more thought could be given to this. Sanjay would despise him. They’d remember him as the master of a murderer. The monster who was responsible for creating a monster. A legend. A scary story, a foolish young monk. Be careful that you do not end up like Sarish, my apprentice. Let his ignorance be your warning. He could not fade away, not after everything that had happened. He would be remembered in the worst of ways. It's as much as I deserve.

The night would have been beautiful in different circumstances. It had started off as a beautiful night years ago. It seemed that these nights would always promise trouble. A distinction he would never forget in whatever time he had left.

A flicker. Something brushing at the very edge of his powers' reach. A person.

Sarish felt his heart drop.

A person. Two people. Three. More, more. Eleven altogether. No, ten. Two were one. One leader and nine others. One familiar but not, and nine others. Intent. Nine were confused, but one was not deterred. The illusion. That must be the illusion at work.

Nine confusions turning into nine amazements, nine fears, nine struggles to push past it all.

One was dead-set. Hellbent. The two that were one.

So familiar, but not. Sarish wanted to withdraw. Ignore it, escape from the familiarity. Run, run, run and never look back, leave his alter and just escape. Run. The past was here, the past was back, and the past had brought friends.

Sarish realized he had never felt true terror until now. It curled in his gut and tore through his thoughts, shredded his resolve and suffocated his soul. Suddenly phantom blows ached all over, his throat tightening and his back aching. He could not do this.

I have to.

He couldn't.

I must.

It was all coming back. All of it was coming back to haunt him, to stand before him and judge. He could not escape. There was nowhere to run to. He could not run. He could not leave the monastery to the fate it did not deserve. It was peaceful, unassuming. He could not imagine the uproar that would be caused if they knew... if they knew...

No.

No.

Sarish was falling apart, but he had to stay strong. For everyone's sake. For everyone. For Markus and Nirmal and Xi and the elders and the Head Master and Kareena and Chihaya and Carter and Sanjay and James.

James. I did not lie. You will never meet Dustin. Not while I am still alive.

The eleven, the eleven that were actually ten were drawing closer. Closer, closer. The way to the maple tree was off of the main path. They would pass it soon. The tree could not be seen from the path. That was perfect. Sarish would have an advantage if he could sneak up behind them. He might be able to take a few down before they knew he was there. He was still sitting. Not yet. He could get up and move soon, but not yet.

Something stirred in his chest, but he ignored it. He needed to focus.

The eleven that were ten halted. Different emotions flickered about now. Mostly caution.

Determination. Surety. Anticipation, breathless anticipation. Fear, a small stab of fear because he remembered what had happened last time, and had brought backup just in case. He would not be denied this time.

And then the eleven that were ten veered off the main path and started towards the maple tree instead.

Sarish opened his eyes. There was his alter, standing in front of him. Strong. Alert. Awake. Moving. It stared at him and he stared at it with such conviction. It was almost a farewell. It blinked slowly, meaningfully. Sarish drew in a breath, released it. He stood, grabbing his bo staff from where it leaned against the trunk of the tree, slid his hands into position as he stood facing where the intruders would arrive from. His alter stood at his side, a new tear making itself known in the corner of his eyes, but he did not look down to examine it. There was no time.

Everything was still for a long moment. An eternity. The opponents halted. There was a grove of trees between the main path and the maple tree. A clearing between the grove and the maple. They were just out of sight.

A low, lonely, solitary howl rose from the trees, splitting the silence of the night. Loud enough, Sarish thought, to be heard from the monastery, but quiet enough that anyone awake would think that they had imagined it. The sound warbled, pitching lower as it came back down and finally cut off. Always so dramatic...

The snow leopard chuffed once, a gesture that only its vessel and the wolf could hear.

And then the wolf stepped from the shadows, a shadow itself. Its fur was dark, black in places and brown in others. It was a timber wolf.

It was achingly familiar. It hadn't changed, though any wounds would be hidden in the night, hidden by the dark pelt. The snow leopard was frozen. It wanted to both shrink back and move forward. It wanted to retreat and attack. It did not move. The wolf did. It padded closer, staring at the two of them. It took only a few paces out of the grove before halting.

And then someone else was stepping forward. Tall, handsome, dark, messy hair with natural highlights. A well-trimmed stubble of a beard that highlighted his face perfectly. Earthy brown eyes that were affixed to Sarish's. Nothing had changed. He looked exactly the same. Like he had stepped straight from Sarish's memories. Maybe he had.

Dustin.

Dustin's face flickered through so many emotions at once that Sarish could not pick out even one. He had stopped as well.

Sarish couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. His heart was racing so quickly that he decided he would not be surprised if he went into cardiac arrest. He had no idea what his own face was doing, what his eyes were conveying. He wanted to crumple to the ground and cry. He wanted to stride right up to the man who had done so much, the man who had hurt so many, the man who had tortured him even when he was on the other side of the world and forget about doing his worst. Just kill him and get it over with.

Sarish didn't know what to do. "How would you react, Sara?" he didn't know. He didn't know even now in the moment.

They stared at each other, vessels and souls. It was surreal.

I can't believe that after all this time... I'm finally here, in front of you again.

Sarish shifted his grip on his staff. Dustin noticed. The man unfroze, striding forward again with a pace that wobbled between hurrying and leisurely strolling. Like he wasn't certain how to react. Neither of them knew. Neither of them were sure this was real. The wolf moved as well, trotting forward so that it was right at its vessel's side. They did not stop. They did not stop until Dustin was a mere arm's length away from Sarish and the wolf was a few paces in front of the snow leopard.

Dustin's eyes studied him, drinking him in. His face was still unreadable. The monk raised the bo staff slightly, a warning. Dustin just stared at him, searching. He found whatever he was looking for, or didn't because now he was reaching out slowly. Sarish's breath hitched and he stepped back.

Triumph.

"You haven't changed at all, Sarish," deep, husky, but soft. Strong but welcoming. Proud but ever-so-slightly weak. A tone he reserved for Sarish. A sob closed up the monk's throat as he stepped back again, fighting, fighting against the rising wave of panic that threatened to consume him, to drive him to his knees and force him to give up.

Oh how he wanted to.

The wolf had stepped closer, but the snow leopard had not backed away. It stood firm, aggressiveness writ in every line of its body, claws unsheathed and ready. Sarish's eyes were drawn down as he remembered something. Dustin's arm. It was healthy. It looked strong. He had reached for him with that hand, with that arm. It must have been fixed. Dustin followed his line of sight and clenched his fist.

"Do you remember, Sarish?" soft, gentle, but tinged with that cocktail of emotions that the monk could never truly decipher. "You remember me, I know you do. Do you remember this?" he raised his arm. Sarish flinched, even though he realized directly after that the intention had only been for him to see. It didn't matter, anyway. Dustin was wearing a jacket.

And then the American was back to peering at him, searching, searching. "You remember..." he murmured.

Dustin hauled back and punched Sarish in the face. The master did not make a sound, stumbling back again as pain radiated through his head. A sharp, stabbing pain in his lip. Dustin had a ring on his hand. It had sliced his lip open. "That," Dustin growled as the wolf bristled, "was not nearly enough. You deserve so much worse for what you did."

Sarish did not answer.

"You..." the American was trembling now, his eyes alight with that murderous, crazy, familiar rage. "You have no idea," his voice trembled and he barked out a laugh. "You have no idea how that felt. What you did to me... you have no idea. You tore me apart. My mind... you destroyed me!" his voice broke, climbing high into a shriek as he lunged forward. Sarish brought the staff up, pointing it at Dustin, who paused and stared at it like he could light it on fire with his gaze.

"You can't say no to me," it was back to that calm, that terrible switch that he could execute so effortlessly. "You never could. You were blinded last time. Blinded because you did not realize that it was all your fault. All your fault," Dustin didn't realize that Sarish was aware. Of course he was. "You will not say no to me this time."

The snow leopard hissed. The wolf did not back off. "How long has it been, Sarish? How long have you been here alone? How are you still alive? I half expected to find out that you were dead and that this was all for nothing," the monk's gaze flicked to the side of Dustin's head for a moment. "I know that you know that they are there," he whistled sharply and stepped aside so that Sarish could see. Nine men, all natives, all sporting patchy body armor. They all carried guns. Every single one of them.

Sarish felt the energy drain from him. Guns. So many. The monastery wouldn't be able to hold under such an attack. Some powers could be of some use against guns, but they were... guns. Guns were fast, faster than a monk summoning their powers. Deadly. Guns were something they had no power against. The men might be defeated, but at what cost? How many would die before then? They had already lost. The snow leopard was back to its old self, protesting through their bond stubbornly. There was nothing they could do, though. One of the men stepped up to Dustin and offered him a gun. It had something on it, just like Richard's gun had had. A silencer.

Sanjay. Sarish had to tell Sanjay. He drew his power up within him, ready to shout a thought laced with enough emotion that it should alert both the Head Master and Sanjay, ready to--

Dustin's gun was pointed at his chest, but it didn't matter because--

Dustin stepped into Sarish's space, close, too close, and Sarish's concentration broke as his claustrophobia slammed into him like it never had before. He dropped the bo staff, wheezing as he stepped back, Dustin stepping with him until Sarish's back was against the tree and he was shaking, shaking, opening his mouth like he wanted to scream, his alter springing forward to attack the wolf with everything it had--

Sarish's chest was tearing open, his soul twisting in the air and falling short, writhing desperately as pain lanced through it. He tried to scream, too breathless to manage it, overwhelmed by the sheer agony, still standing because Dustin had hooked both arms under his own and was holding him upright. The gun had been dropped, it was by his feet. "Do you feel that?" he murmured calmly into Sarish's ear. "That's only a fraction of what I felt. I could do worse. I should do worse."

"If you call for help, I will kill everyone in the monastery. I will give the command and those men will turn on the monks and kill everyone. It's very simple," and then he paused, waiting because the snow leopard had stopped its desperate convulsions, the pain fading rapidly as it laid at the wolf's paws. Dustin pulled back to look into Sarish's desperate, terrified eyes. He seemed to be distracted for a moment. "Would you prefer something else?" he asked gently. The monk didn't understand, couldn't think, watched as the wolf's form trembled and fell apart, growing, growing until it suddenly reformed. A tiger. It was a tiger now. So easily, so quickly, like it was no big deal that the soul had just taken a different form. Sarish didn't understand, he wasn't--

James.

Sarish found a moment of clarity, reaching one hand up and out. Towards Dustin's forehead. The American's eyes widened and he immediately let go, stumbling back a few steps. That was enough! Sarish darted forward, forgetting about his staff as he pursued Dustin, hands open and ready to strike, determination flooding through him as he realized that this is my chance, I can still--!

His soul tore apart again, screeching in pain as Sarish tripped and fell, curling up at the agony.
Imdyingimdyingimdyinghelphelp... and then it faded, and vessel and soul were left panting.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, airhead!" ah. Ah. He had forgotten how that sounded coming from his former apprentice's mouth. A swift kick to his chest. Something cracked, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. "You are still an idiot, absolutely idiotic, stupid as hell... but not in this," and then a hand was grabbing his robes and he was pulled upright. Sarish could see the men with guns pointing them at him. And then he was looking into Dustin's eyes again.

Dustin.

"It's very simple. Very. What did I always want from you, Sarish?"

Come back to America with me.

"I'm not leaving without you. Not this time," his voice went soft again. "Monsters. That's what we are. You know that you are one. You've had enough time to realize that I was right. I'm always right. You don't belong here. You never did. It's simple. I am trying to help you," oh, his tone said as much. His warm brown eyes, that conviction. A bit of desperation. Worry that this might not work. "All I've ever wanted to do was help you. We're friends. I know you. You know me. I swear," he made sure Sarish was back on his feet before stepping aside ever so slightly. The tiger, still watching the leopard. But then it fell apart again, back to the wolf. "I swear on my soul," and the wolf flashed a bright blue, looking up at them, "that I will not harm a single person in that monastery if you come back with me. I swear that not a single one of these people will hurt anyone. I swear that nobody will even know that I was here. I swear it all on my soul, Sarish. As long as you come back with me."

There was no second option. Not really. Not in Sarish's mind. He was a bit surprised. He had assumed that Dustin might just kill him. But even after all this time...

'I'd never leave you. Not for long. I've always come back, haven't I?'

He didn't want to. His mind was telling him no, his heart was telling him no, his soul was screaming no!, but there was no other option. Nobody would get hurt this way.

Sarish was so scared. He was so scared. He wanted this all to be just a dream. Blood was dripping from his lip down onto his chin, onto his robes. He was so scared. But there was something else. Something else he had denied for so long. Something that he couldn't bear to hear anyone say, assume, suggest...

Dustin's voice was so gentle. So caring, his eyes sad but warm; supportive. "Sarish... you missed me, didn't you?"

Miss.

"You are disgusting. Sick. You deserve whatever Dustin does to you. Are you very certain that you remember?" it was nose to nose with Sarish now, the exact same pair of eyes staring at each other. "Do you really? Because I am you and I know. I know that you m--"

"What about Dustin?" Markus whispered, voice almost sweet as he peered down at Sarish with victory in his eyes. "Even after all this time... you haven't changed a bit, have you? Tell me, I want to know... I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you m--"

That I missed Dustin.

No. No no no. No. Sarish was trembling, struggling to breathe, the pain in his chest so strong now. No.

He didn't.

"Sarish," so, so gently. "Tell me the truth. I deserve the truth. Hasn't it killed you to keep the truth hidden away? Hasn't it hurt every time you had to defend yourself, to claim otherwise so that you could survive in this hostile environment? But you don't have to hide it any longer. I'm here," a hand tilted his chin up, keeping away from the blood that Sarish wasn't even trying to stop. Brown eyes met blue.

"I missed you," Sarish whispered. His soul let out a low, chilling wail, shaking again because it was denying it, pleading, begging, hurting, willing it to be untrue.

"I know you did," Dustin murmured, settling his hand on the master's shoulder. "I missed you too. We need each other. Can't you see?" Sarish didn't respond. That was it. That was what he had tried so hard to hide even from himself. He had admitted the truth. He had bent to Dustin's will. He did every time. So weak. Because Dustin knew. Dustin knew that he would never cave to physical pain. Sarish would keep trudging through the pain until he was dead. But emotionally? All the American had to do was tug at the strings and the monk would be at his mercy. Every time.

"Will you come back with me, Sarish? Will you make the right choice? Will you come back with the only person who truly cares about you? Will you come back to me, Sarish? Will you do something worthwhile? Will you save all of those damn monks, all of those pretentious asses? All of those unworthy people? You are the monster and the hero, Sarish, an unholy hybrid that will never fit in with them. I am the only one who gives a damn," it was useless. Sarish had given up long before his speech. Dustin must have seen it, too.

"Yes. I will," and then the night froze again. Dustin straightened, eyes wide as his mouth curled into an unbelieving smile. After all this time... all these years, all the struggle... like there was no way it could be that easy. "But," and then the expression dropped so quickly that Sarish felt like he had gotten whiplash.

"But?" Dustin repeated, tone calm but borderline dangerous again.

"Someone had a dream about this night. A premonition. I knew you'd come," and the American stiffened. "But I am the only one that knows," Sarish plowed on quickly, needing to make this right, priming his bond with his alter. "I swear on my soul," and the snow leopard-still collapsed on its side but staring up at him with desperation, fury, confusion, trying to get him to stop what he was doing, to fight to the death, to refuse because they could never ever be under Dustin's power again, never-flashed blue, "that nobody except for the monk and I know about this. Nobody else knows that you are here, or that any of those people are here," and there was a moment of silence. The snow leopard did not shriek and die in a spectacular fashion, so Dustin nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I will not come back with you if you kill them. But there is a way to solve this that involves me coming back with you willingly and nobody dying," his mind was churning to catch up to his mouth, his soul tugging on their bond desperately because he couldn't give up, they couldn't. "I will walk back to the monastery. You will not follow me, and none of them will follow me either," he gestured towards the confused but still armed men. "I will not raise an alarm. I will go straight to the monk and I will tell them that they need to lie to Sanjay," he nearly slipped and named some other names, "that I am dead. That the premonition was about me dying of some other cause. And then after I am sure that the monk will do so, I will come right back. There will be no panic if they think I am dead. They would never suspect you were here unless they saw you themselves. And I will come with you willingly."

Dustin narrowed his eyes, thinking. "Sanjay will not believe it."

"Yes, he will. You don't know what has been going on recently. It will not be as much of a surprise as you think," and the American frowned, very obviously wondering about what exactly had been going on, but did not ask.

"You will swear on your soul?"

"Yes, if you will." Dustin lowered his gaze for a moment. Then he nodded. They both swore on their souls, and then it was done. Sarish was bound. Dustin watched him for a moment longer, silent. For a moment, the monk was sure he was going to say something. But then he simply stepped aside and waved his hand at the armed men, who all lowered their guns warily and stepped off to the side.

Sarish didn't move for a long while, brain finally catching up with everything that had just happened, what he had just promised. He was fairly sure that he was going to tip over and pass out at this point, but he didn't. One step forward. His soul pleaded with him, begging, begging because they couldn't give up, they couldn't go back, not with Dustin never with Dustin, but he ignored it. Another step. Three, four, and then he was padding slowly, weakly, unsteadily past Dustin, past the wolf, past the men, into the grove of trees. Out of sight.

He did not pause. His face ached, the blood on his chin starting to dry, his lip bleeding anew every time he moved it too much. Two ribs fractured, at least, he thought. It was hard to breathe, and it hurt, but he paid it no mind. Back onto the path. His soul was trying everything it could think of to get Sarish to change his mind, to please, please reconsider, but there was no going back. He was bound.

Back to the monastery. He did not halt when he reached the steps, taking them one at a time, slowly, stiffly. He reached out tiredly with his powers. Very few people were awake. It was so late. Almost everyone was in their room. Someone was in the tea room, someone was in the library. Nobody else was moving. Sanjay was still asleep. It was so easy to locate Carter's mind. The apprentice was still awake. Still in his room.

Sarish moved as quietly as he could through the halls, taking it all in. He knew that he would never walk them again. Straight to Carter's room, as promised. He paused outside the door. So much had happened... so much had yet to occur. There was no time for politeness. Sarish should just walk in, explain everything, convince Carter, and walk out. Courtesy was the last thing on his mind.

Sarish reached up with one hand and knocked quietly, quietly on the doorframe.

(935 posts. 190 instances of his name. Nearly three and a half months. This post is 4579 words long. I have an even longer one that will show up soon. And now we've met Dustin in person. Holy hell.)
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[stormy tom]

(I have been blessed.)

All Carter could think about was how he might have messed this up. Should James know? Or shouldn't he?

What kind of stupid power is this if it's no good? he thought, then stopped himself. James was alive because of his first dream. But this second one...? It seemed he could do nothing.

Nothing. Useless.

And tormenting. Every time he dreamed he wondered if it was another premonition. He had dreamed of harm -- and death -- coming to James many times. And every time he awoke terrified. Because what if this one was a premonition? No, no it couldn't be, because it wasn't in hyper-focus and touched with blue like a premonition so far had been. But what if it wasn't just a dream? What if he was wrong?

The knock on the door made him jump. But he rose, easily pushing long legs under his slender body and standing, pushing the door open, brown eyes grey in the dim light, short blonde hair billowing a little. He half expected to see James standing there before he remembered that James was not one for knocking.

No, instead it was Sarish, an expression Carter could not read on his face. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. And neither was the blood on the master's lip, nor the stiff way he moved to protect injured ribs. "Master Sarish," Carter began. No. No no. The dream. He lowered his voice, stepping back from the door in case Sarish wanted to come in. "It happened, didn't it... the dream? H-he's really here isn't he. James is in his room, I promise, I checked not too long ago..."

Wait... was Dustin coming? With his friends and his guns? With destruction and death? Why was Sarish here? Clearly he had encountered the infamous apprentice, and clearly their interaction had not been a warm one.

What that entailed for everyone else, Carter was not sure. He had no idea how to address this situation, yet the feeling of responsibility was slowly sinking atop his shoulders, growing heavier with each second he beheld the master's stare. It was terrified, shocked, pained, and so many other things all at once, and all contained.

This would not be good.

[Sarish]

Sarish heard the shuffling on the other side of the door. He did not have to wait long before Carter was sliding the door open. The monk looked up at the apprentice, numb. He could only imagine what the poor man must see playing across his face. It didn't matter.

Nobody was around. He could tell, his powers were picking up the emotions of everyone nearby. They were all asleep. He stepped into the room anyway because it would make him feel a bit better. A bit safer. A bit farther away from Dustin. Sarish stared wordlessly at Carter for a long moment, realizing with a pang of horror that poor Carter would have to be the one to tell everyone, to keep the secret. That's not what Sarish had wanted. He had wanted to disappear. But Sanjay might come after him if he knew Dustin had been back. He might get help. Maybe they'd try to get help from the police or something...

Sarish had no idea if that was an institution in Nepal, but he was not going to risk it. It was better if everyone thought he was dead. If there was another way, he would have taken it. But he was here now, and there was nothing that he could do but plead with Carter. Carter would want to protect James, to protect everyone. Now he could. Just one lie. Just one.

"Dustin is here," he confirmed, and his chest tightened impossibly. The realization hit him like a train again. This wasn't a dream. This was real, this was happening, and here he was. Helpless. Except for this. He could make one change. One choice and then everything at the monastery would be alright again. And James was still asleep. James. James. I'm sorry, James. I'm sorry for everything that I said. But you need to hate me. It'll make everything so much easier... Carter must not know what he had said to his friend. Sarish wasn't sure what to do with that information.

He was so scared. So scared. But this was all he could do. "Dustin is here but he will not attack," he relayed quietly, voice rasping and raw. "He is here and he brought men with guns, but they will not attack," and this was where he had to be strong or it would all fall apart. All of this was resting on Carter now. He had to present the circumstances correctly. He had to explain the direness of the situation. The truth.

"He will not attack because I promised to go back with him," quietly, quietly. Let Carter think what he will. Let him assume and be horrified. Let him hate me. "Nobody will die tonight. The situation is taken care of. But Carter," and he forced his gaze up to meet the apprentice's: tired and weary and terrified and pained, but strong. Pleading with everything that he had. "You must tell everyone that you had a dream. But not about Dustin. About me. Tell them that I died. Somehow... tell them that someone came looking for help in the middle of the night. Tell them that I was sitting by the maple tree practicing my forms with my bo staff," because he had left it there and there was no way that he could return it or bring it with him, so someone would find it there later, "and the person found me and pleaded for my help. Claim that in your dream I followed them up the mountain and slipped and fell and died."

"Carter, listen, please. It is better if they think that I am dead and they will never find my body," his tone was turning more desperate by the second. "They need to think I am gone. That I am never coming back, but not that I am missing. Sanjay might... do something... foolish," James is angry with me. Kareena is scared of me. Sanjay has been sleeping this entire time, Carter doesn't know me very well. Carter will choose what is best for James. I don't know Chihaya very well either, but I think that she will listen to a strong enough lie. They know about Carter's powers of premonition. They wouldn't suspect he has a reason to lie.

"Carter, please," and now he was pleading. "Please. It is better if I am dead. Not missing, dead. Dead and never coming back. Because I'm not," Sarish choked on the words, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment. "Nobody can know that it was Dustin. Everyone will panic. They will realize that memories can be restored even if they are erased or mutated or completely reworked. Everyone is scared enough as it is... terrified just by the memory of Dustin, of his name..."

"Please, Carter, please! I am so sorry that I have to ask this of you, but I need you to... please. For everyone's sake. Dustin has to remain in the past. If Sanjay... if Sanjay found out and tried to rescue me or do something equally as reckless and stupid..." because his mind was telling him that James might, but he was denying it because James had to hate him now, he had to. "Dustin would kill him. He's strong, he's so strong, Carter, you don't know... he's..." Sarish knew he was crying now, stifling sobs as he tried to keep his voice low. His lip was bleeding again. "Please. For the sake of everyone, Carter, please," he begged because Carter was the one with all of the power in his hands. Sarish could do nothing more than beg and plead and reason with everything he had.

"No more death. No more fear. No more. Please, Carter, please."

[stormy tom]

And Carter listened. It was all he could do, stand there stunned and scared and starting to swirl with fear... how could he do this, lie to all his friends?

But he had to.

Sarish was going with Dustin. Whatever had happened, he knew this was not a choice the master wanted to make. Not an easy choice by any means.

"Okay," Carter nodded, and he felt his body moving even though ordinarily he would not do such a thing toward a master, but he hugged Sarish. "For James," he whispered, because his heart was breaking for his friend. He had not been privy to their earlier conversation. He didn't know that James was holed up in his room, confused and hurting.

And then he pulled back, and that was that. The dream faded from his mind, fulfilled. And his stomach dropped until he felt as empty as Sarish looked.

--

And not it was morning, and he had to face his friends. For once he was the first one up. James was late, staggering to the table wrapped in his sweater, eyes staring blankly into nothingness. He sat down heavily and Carter swallowed. For a moment he thought James might know already.

"You don't look so good," James was saying, "What's up?"

You're one to talk... you look like you got about as much sleep as I did. None. But you look worse, somehow... "James... James I need to talk to you. And everyone."

And James was smart enough to read into that tone, that expression... and eventually the presence of everyone but Sarish. "Carter, what happened."

"James. James what I'm about to tell you is not going to be good. I need you to just listen, alright? Please, I'll do whatever you need when we're done. But just hear me out, alright?" Carter swallowed. His dread and sorrow were real. Real enough to convince his friends that someone had died.

"Carter," Chihaya said softly. "Please tell us."

Could he? Could he really get the words out? At least James seemed to distracted to really be paying close attention to Carter. Not close enough to be able to pick out a lie that was hidden well enough. And Carter would hide it. This whole thing was resting on his shoulders, depending on his performance right here and now.

"Sarish," Carter swallowed. "Sarish is dead."

--

"He was trying to help. He just... he just fell. He's gone. James, he's gone, I'm sorry."

The words were ringing in his ears. Swirling around, spinning, repeating, sometimes loud and sometimes soft. Sometimes clear and sometimes distorted. Dead. Dead dead dead dead dead. Gone forever. Ended. After their conversation yesterday, why did that hurt as much as it did, like a piece of him was being ripped out?

Because we were friends, no matter what he said in the end... how dare you, Sarish. Throw me away like that and then leave. Abandon me. Is that the last thing you have to say to me, that I'm no good at fixing and you don't need my help? That you don't want me around?

it was too much, all too much. Too much to process. How could this be real? How could their happiness have been torn apart so quickly? Destroyed so easily? And what had been previously wrong? Jame supposed he would never know. Not now. Now that Sarish was dead. Dead dead dead dead dead. Never coming back. He would never see that face again, never hear those words of comfort, feel that wash of calm soak through him. Be encouraged like only Sarish ever could. Be understood as Sarish could only understand.

And he was alone.

Truly alone. Alone with Striker and Richard to tear him into pieces without slowing. Without faltering. And James could not fight them anymore. Not on his own. He need help. He needed at least the knowledge that there was someone who could and would help.

"James! James... you're alright, come on, James breathe..." Carter's voice was drifting to him, and he realized he was on the floor, Carter speaking to him, holding his frigid face, pleading that he awaken. "That's it, sit up, slowly..." Carter had not expected his friend's reaction to be so... so...

And James was clutching his chest, gasping for breath, freezing to the touch. Carter helped him to stand. "Tell me it's not true..."

"It is. James I'm sorry." Carter offer sincerely. Because he was. He was sorry he had to lie. At least he told himself that had he told the truth James would be dead. James would be crashing down the mountain after Dustin, would have attacked, would have been riddled with bullets or worse. And he would die. But as he watched James he wondered: was this better?

Perhaps this would fade. Perhaps they could train today and James would feel better. He would move on. He would find new friends, maybe open up to Carter a bit more. Carter knew that James and Sarish had shared a deep connection thanks to shared life experiences. Carter just had no way of understanding some of the things JAmes had gone through. But he would try, oh would he try until he had no more breath in his lungs.

Would it be enough? Between all of them, could they move on? Maybe they could all get through this if they kept together, moved through it as a family. And Carter would not allow James to he'd off to his room and sulk alone, suffer alone. None of them. But was he enough? He would try... anything to counter the guilt climbing in his throat.

[Sarish]

Sarish flinched when Carter moved towards him, tensing as the taller man wrapped him in a hug. But then it sank in; Carter would lie. Carter would do what had to be done. And then it felt like everything was draining from him, fading away, like it would never come back. And Sarish succumbed to the hug-disgusting, he doesn't know what you did to James-and offered a shaky, deadly quiet, "thank you, Carter. Take care of James. Take care of yourself."

And then he had to leave or he would lose his nerve. He would go against his word and he would die and Dustin would fly into a rage and attack. Now, he had to leave right now. Sarish forced himself, pushed himself to walk back through the halls, to ignore his surroundings, to take a pair of sandals, to leave the monastery, to descend the stairs. And then he couldn't help himself. He stopped, turned, faced the monastery. Sarish gazed at it for a long time, all of the pain weighing him down until he thought that perhaps he would simply die from the stress and strain. But he didn't. So he stared at the monastery that held everything, that held so much, memories and friends and family. Everything that he had been or would ever be.

"Goodbye," he whispered in Nepali, and then bowed deeply. Sarish straightened, turned, and trudged on. Back, back, back to Dustin. Always back to Dustin. Off the path, through the grove, back to the clearing. Some things had changed. The men were all mostly in the same place, their guns swinging up to point at him as he emerged from the shadows. He halted, watching them numbly. Dustin yelled something that Sarish didn't register, and they immediately lowered them again. Dustin. Dustin was leaning against the maple tree. His soul hadn't moved, but the wolf had. The wolf was sitting close enough to touch the other soul, but it did not. It was strange to see it so docile. It was always so angry, so dangerous in the dreams...

Dustin watched as he approached, only slightly wary, looking exactly like a satisfied cat. And Sarish walked up to him, the both of them under the maple tree now, under the swaying rusted brown tapestry. How familiar this was... how had it only been a few years? The monk bowed his head, silently acquiescing. Dustin unfolded his arms, walking over to him, setting a hand on his shoulder. "You have suffered enough. It has been too long. Let's go home," he prompted. The snow leopard was still protesting weakly through their bond, but it was not enough. It was done. It was over. So Sarish nodded. "Call your alter back," and he pulled at their connection. The snow leopard wailed again, desperate and terrified and unwilling, it couldn't do this again, they couldn't, they had been trying so hard to move on, and now, now...

There was a few minutes of silence as vessel and alter fought before the leopard heaved a mighty sigh and collapsed, returning. And oh, Sarish just felt even colder, even emptier now that it was back. The wolf brushed against his leg, growling softly, possessively. Dustin offered the monk a hand, but he would not take it. A bitter expression flashed over the American's face for just a moment, but it faded just as quickly. And then there was a sudden flurry of movement and the men were picking up, preparing to leave, and Sarish struggled to breathe with his broken chest.

---

Sanjay woke and immediately knew something was wrong. It was a feeling, a gut feeling that he could not ignore. He recalled everything that Sarish had said to his alter and frowned, frowned. How long had he slept for? It was morning... and there was Kareena, sleeping in the corner. A full day? Maybe longer...? "Kareena," he called. She was snoring softly. "Kareena!" the apprentice startled, eyes flying open. Sanjay had yet to find a way to wake the apprentice that didn't frighten her. "Sorry... how long did I...?"

She blinked blearily back at him, yawning widely. "One day. You were exhausted... you used a lot of your power... how do you feel?" Sanjay felt like someone had stuffed cotton into his head and he had run around the entirety of the Himalayas, but he wasn't focused on that right now.

"Kareena, did you see Sarish yesterday?" she bit her lip.

"Y=yes. He was... bitter. Upset. Said he didn't sleep well..."

"Kareena," Sanjay softened. "Did he yell at you?"

"N-no... I mean... he was just cross. It's okay," she smiled weakly. "I know how he gets. It's not fault."

"That doesn't excuse him from..." Sanjay sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll speak with him. We'll have a nice long chat about courtesy," yes. The feeling that something was wrong wasn't fading, but he would see everyone at breakfast. He could figure out what was wrong and fix it. Yes, of course.

They went to the dining hall, Sanjay leaning on Kareena slightly because he really didn't feel very strong, finding Carter and Chihaya and James already there. "Sorry, we..." he started, trailing off as he noticed how terrible James looked, how Carter wasn't any better. They sat down slowly, Sanjay's heart beating a bit faster now. Where was Sarish? Had he slept in today? What had happened yesterday?

They listened, listened as first James and then Chihaya prompted Carter for an answer. What had happened, what had happened?

Three words. That was all it took. Sanjay's eyes went wide with horror, terror, disbelief as his mouth slipped open. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. This wasn't real. There was no way. Kareena had frozen beside him, completely still. Sanjay felt something snap in his chest. No. No. No. No.

How? How? Carter was trying to explain, but Sanjay could hardly hear him. He forced himself to listen, to understand, to find a reason, an explanation because there was no way. Not after everything. No. No. No. Sanjay's head was spinning. Kareena was shaking his shoulder, trying to talk to him, but he could not hear her. He realized that he was holding his breath.

"No, no, that's not..." his far-out gaze drifted down until he was staring at the table. "That's not possible. He was... he was so worried... he couldn't see the path, but nothing was wrong, he was going to be okay, I promised him..." he was muttering, murmuring things. He wasn't even aware that he was speaking. "It's not true, it's not possible, it can't be..." and Kareena was trying to pull his hand away from where it was clenched against his chest, trying to speak with him, but he couldn't hear it. All he could hear was the last words he had said to Sarish, the last words his friend had said to him. Over and over again.

He couldn't... this wasn't... I need to talk to...

Sarish. Always trying to help. Always trying to do more than he was capable of. And for what? To what end? Dustin had conditioned him, strengthened the tendency that had already been there, had made sure that he always had to be doing something, rarely taking the time to worry about himself, to consider that maybe he couldn't, maybe it was okay to ask for help, that not everything had to be his problem. He could have gone to get someone. He could have woken Sanjay up. Had he tried? And now he was slumping over the table, horrified. Had Sarish tried to wake him? What if... was if this was his fault?

Sarish was dead. After everything, after all this time, after everything that could have killed him, should have killed him, after all the pain, after all the false happiness and the lies and the attempts to make sure that people weren't worrying about him... he was gone. Just like that.

Just gone.

"Dammit," Sanjay whispered, feeling the tears stream down his face as Kareena held him upright. "Dammit, dammit, what the hell Sarish. How the hell can you just...? You can't just... what the hell," so long. He had known Sarish since he was eight, a bitter, angry, broken, restless little kid. So many years... so many trials, so many hardships. And now he was just... gone. Forever. Sanjay broke. He was sobbing, his body shaking with the force of it, but he hardly made a sound. He could only think of three courses of action. Tell the Head Master. Tell his family. Tell Basanta, in that order. Sanjay had a new job, a new purpose. He had to... he couldn't...

Sanjay rose from the table without another word and stumbled away, Kareena close at his heels.

---

It was a gorgeous night. Fall was just starting to turn over into winter, the night air brisk but not uncomfortable. Not for Sarish, who had lived in these mountain for his entire life. A soft breeze brushed lovingly over the landscape, gently caressing the browning leaves of the maple tree that trembled on gnarled limbs above his head. The moon was low in the night sky, just the thinnest curve of a claw against the purple-black of the vibrant, clear tapestry of constellations overhead, twinkling calmly.

His soul lay near to him, the tip of its tail touching his leg as it laid still, content. No words were needed; they were in harmony tonight.

Everything was perfect. Everything was peaceful. The monk let a smile curve his lips, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back, eyes closed. He had meant to meditate tonight, but it looked as if he might not be able to manage it. Not on this beautiful night that begged to be beheld. That was alright. There would be plenty of opportunities to meditate some other day, some other night. For now, he would simply enjoy the peace, listening and feeling, but keeping his eyes closed for now. Simply existing in this otherworldly evening.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before footsteps sounded at his side. Two sets, actually; footsteps and a distinct padding pace. “You are up late, Dustin,” Sarish greeted with amusement and fondness clear in his tone, not opening his eyes. Not yet. Perhaps his apprentice would simply sit next to him tonight. Enjoy the atmosphere. A natural one; his powers wouldn’t be able to do anything. Not tonight. Everything was perfect just the way it was.

He could hear Dustin pause a few paces away, the wolf continuing along to stand beside the snow leopard. Its fur was a bit wet. Perhaps it had gone for a swim in the river. The canine dipped its head and ran a tongue over the cat’s ear, haunches sinking down as it sat. The leopard started up a warm purr, rubbing the top of its head under the wolf’s jaw, eyes narrowed into pleased slits as its tail flicked away from Sarish’s leg to curl around the other soul instead. It did not mind its friend’s wet fur.

“I’m not the only one,” Dustin finally answered quietly, subdued. “Master,” he prompted. The Nepali man just chuckled, easily slipping into his teasing mood.

“I told you not to call me that, ‘apprentice’. There’s no need for such a title. Don’t argue with me. It’s such a beautiful night. There’s no need to ruin it by arguing.”

A pause. “Sarish,” and the monk finally noticed his friend’s tone, the way the wolf had gone still. He opened his eyes, turning his head to the left and up to gaze at his apprentice.

“Dustin? What’s wrong?” there was a smudge of something on his cheek. “Have you been training? Why do you have dirt on you?”

Those earthen eyes just stared down at him. The snow leopard’s purring puttered out as it turned to gaze at its companion. The wolf had turned away, muzzle pointed to the side.

“Dustin?”

“You never gave me an answer.”

“What? Dustin, what’s wrong. Did something happen?” Sarish prodded, growing worried about his friend’s removed attitude. He seemed so distant… yet he was staring down at his master as if he were something incredibly important, those muddy eyes boring into the soft blues.

“Sarish, please, I need an answer. Will you come back to America with me?”

Sarish blinked. “That’s what this is about?” he chuckled softly, shaking his head as he looked away. “Honestly, don’t startle me like that, Dustin. I’ve… been considering it, though. I haven’t made a decision yet.”

“Why the hell not?” came the barbed reply. “What’s taking you so damn long?” the wolf huffed frustratedly.

“I… you have to realize that this decision is not an easy one to make. I’ve never been anywhere but here,” Sarish’s voice dipped as he regarded the mountains warmly. “The powers here keep me on my feet. I’m uneducated, Dustin. I would not fit in in your world.”

“I already told you,” Dustin hissed, fists clenching as the monk turned back to look at him. “That I can help you with all of that. I can get you the best surgeon in the world to fix you. After all these years you could finally be whole again. Healthy. You could kick my ass if you were healthy. You’d be the best bo staff user in the Himalayas. You could climb again! How could you pass that up?”

“It’s… it’s been a long time, Dustin,” Sarish reminded him quietly. “A very long time. I don’t yearn for all of that as much as I used to. I am content with where I am. Besides, you wouldn’t be very happy if you couldn’t beat me as often as you do these days. I’ve had a long time to get used to all of this, Dustin--”

“And aren’t you damn tired of feeling so weak?” he pressed, taking a step closer. His master flinched, expecting a blow. “I am offering you the chance that most could only dream of!” something flashed in his eyes. “You are being ungrateful, Master. You are being high and mighty, pretending you are better than it all.”

“I don’t… I’m not…”

“Yes the hell you are!” Dustin snarled, shoulders stiffening.

“E-even so… even if none of that mattered… my family is here, my friends--”

“Your family that you hardly ever go to see? The family that tried to cage you in, keep you captive instead of supporting you when all you wanted to do was climb, to show them that you were worth keeping?” Sarish went silent. Dustin had struck deep, and he knew it. “And your friends? Who are you talking about? Markus? He hated you for being better. Basanta? He left you alone. Sanjay? The only thing he cares about is his long lost crush that never loved him back! None of them care about you the way I do!” Dustin snapped.

“I would never leave you. Not forever. I can’t stay during the winters, but have I ever failed to come back? Have I?”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Damn right!” and now the wolf was growling, ears pricked forward as it stared away into the night. “Basanta left you. Your master left once you became a master. He hadn’t been planning to take another apprentice, but then word of you and your accident spread through these mountains like wildfire and then he felt a duty to help you. Nothing more, nothing less. And then what did he do when you passed the tests? He left. He hadn’t been planning to leave until after he had trained you. He left because of you.”

“Markus didn’t care about you. He thought that he could be better than you, that he was doing you a favor by being your friend. And then you showed him that that stick up his ass really hasn’t been doing anything but keeping him down. You showed him that you are the better in every way.”

“How many times have you listened to Sanjay lament his long-gone crush? They were never going to stay. He knew that. And then he came to you and dumped his troubles on you. Like they were yours to deal with. Like you owed him something. No. When he gets tired of you, he’ll throw you away too. Toss you aside like you’re unimportant.”

“This monastery doesn’t give a damn about you. You’re too ‘young’, too ‘inexperienced’, too 'nice'. How can you stand to stay here? How can you stand to stay and take all of this abuse? All of these jealous monks complaining because they hadn’t been nearly as skilled as you when they were thirty. You stay around these jealous monks and listen to their venomous words and smile and nod and agree with them when you know damn well how much work you put into becoming better!”

“How hard did you work when you first came here? How much did you have to learn? You had to learn how to walk, to adjust your pace, to ride out the rains! You had to be thrown to the ground over and over and over until you finally realized how to fight with what is probably a crushed spine! Yet despite all of that you still managed to become one of the best damn bo staff users here. And then you lost so much time during monsoon season, you lost so many days to pain and numbness and fear and panic. I don’t know how you haven’t gone insane.”

“But you didn’t whine about how you’d never catch up. You said farewell to Basanta after the evening meal every night in the fall and winter and spring and immediately got to work. You practiced anything and everything that he had taught you. For hours. When everyone else was asleep. You practiced in the dark for so long that I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you can see better at night than in broad daylight. You sacrificed sleep and comfort just to catch up. You worked so damn hard. I don’t know another person that could stay that determined.”

“And the worst part of it all? Hardly anybody recognized what you were doing. If Basanta was aware, he ignored it. Everyone thought you were cheating in some way. Cheating. You never corrected them, did you? You wanted to prove to yourself that you were worth something, that you could be something more than what you had been reduced to. Are you able to see how amazing you are? Or has everyone else’s words just convinced you otherwise?”

Sarish was silent, staring down at the ground. Dustin had always been so good at pulling up his insecurities. He knew, he always knew. Because Sarish had told him. He had forgotten himself, forgotten the disconnect that was supposed to be present; he was the master and Dustin the apprentice. Master and apprentice first and foremost. Somehow Sarish had broken down time and time again when Dustin had prodded him for tidbits about his past and admitted so many things…

They weren’t master and apprentice. That had gotten lost somewhere along the way. They were friends. Despite Dustin’s sudden insistence in calling him ‘master’, he wasn’t. He never had been.

“I know what you are. I’ve seen what you really are, Master. Sarish. Master Sarish, I know you,” and he did, he really did. Of course he did. “How is it that you are happy here? How can you stand to be happy here? Do you know what happiness is? I can show it to you.”

“Come back to America with me, Sarish. I am the only one who has seen you for who you truly are. I am the only one who can truly appreciate you. I have not betrayed you. I have stayed loyal. I have always returned to you.”

“I have not forgotten what you’ve done for me. I know how many of these damn monks have turned on you because you defend me. I know that I would have never been allowed to summon me, my soul, my wolf without you. Never. They never would have allowed it. You allowed me the chance to heal. You allowed me the chance to grow. You stood up for me when nobody else would.”

“Can’t you see? Can’t you see that we are one in the same? We are a rare breed, Sarish. Two of a kind. Can’t you see? Why won’t you acknowledge it? Nobody will ever be able to see you as I do. Nobody else would have trained me this far. I would never have been able to become this strong without you. My wolf would still be wavering, flickering, fizzling out, scarred and hurting. But there it is,” Dustin gestured to the proud soul, sitting tall even though its back was still facing everyone. “Strong. Powerful. Because of you.”

And then the American was taking another step closer, close enough to touch Sarish. “Nobody can understand. Nobody knows me like you do, and nobody will ever know you like I do. Nobody. I won’t leave you. I want you to come with me, Master. Come back to America with me, Sarish."

Everything was still for a long moment. A gust of wind blew between the two men, between their souls. The monk’s mind spun as he laced his slightly shaking fingers together. It was just… it was so much. He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure. What was the right move? He had thought that he had time to consider his answer.

Leave everything he’d ever known, or take his friend’s hand and step into a new world?

Nepal or America?

Familiarity or the Unknown?

Responsibility or Freedom?

Solidarity or Dustin?

Sarish unfolded his legs, carefully pushing himself up off the ground. He turned to look at his apprentice, his friend. At Dustin.
“Dustin… I think that…” his gaze was pulled to his friend’s cheek again and the words in his throat died. “Dustin…?” that wasn’t dirt. He lifted one hand, raising himself up on the balls of his feet so that he could get a better look. His hand brushed over the smudge and he brought his hand back down to examine it. It was shiny, sticky, not brown but red. “Dustin? What happened? Are you hurt?” Sarish asked, worried now. Had Dustin gotten into another fight? Had someone attacked him?

The American’s confident, almost hopeful expression melted into a blank mask. He brought one of his own hands up to touch at his cheek, regarding the blood on his fingers emotionlessly. “What a shame. I hadn’t realized that that was there.”

Sarish frowned, confused. “What, Dustin? What happened, please tell me. I can talk to someone, we can work whatever it was out--”

Dustin’s cold laugh cut through his words. The taller man dissolved into hysterics, leaning forward as his handsome face scrunched up. “Oh, Sarish,” he gasped out. “Oh, oh Sarish. You really are adorable. So loyal,” and then he suddenly stopped, straightening and fixing his master with a hard glare. “Do you know what this means? Do you really want to know what happened? Answer the damn question.”

“I… Dustin, that doesn’t matter right now, please, tell me what happened--”

“What happened?!" the apprentice shrieked, grasping Sarish’s shoulders in a vice-like grip. The monk flinched, flinched, flinched, twisting in his grip in an attempt to get away, panic rising in his throat as he shrank away, anticipating a strike, a slap, a punch, a jab, a kick. He's angry. I didn't mean to make him angry, I'm sorry, please don't... nothing came, the grip did not loosen. "Look at me!" Dustin yelled, shaking him violently. "Look at what you've turned me into!"

Sarish blinked, flinched, swallowing, swallowing as his trembling gaze flicked onto his apprentice’s face. Dustin looked… he looked… stricken. Terrified. Desperate. But his eyes, his eyes… they were so… blank.

The wolf growled and stood suddenly, spinning to face the cowering soul, snow leopard and master suddenly going still. The wolf, the wolf…

Its mouth was dripping red, its black fur damp. Its chest stained dark and heavy. Its eyes mad and scared but determined.

It was bloody.

Sarish trembled in Dustin’s grip, unable to tear his gaze away from the ragged soul. The snow leopard’s ear and head were tainted, turned red from where the wolf had touched it.

“D-dustin…” the monk gasped out, eyes wide and terrified. “D-dustin… wh-what did you do…?” was his hoarse whisper, denying what he was seeing, pleading, pleading that this was all just a dream, that he was reading the situation wrong, please, please.

“Do you see?” and Sarish turned back to Dustin, whose expression was now twisting into something angry, something furious, something terrible. “Do you see what you made me do? Do you want to know what you made me do?”

No.

No.

Please please please.

"Three," was the deadly calm admission. "Three dead because of you. Three dead because of what you did. What you turned me into."

No.

The monk was shivering uncontrollably, eyes wide and fixed on his apprentice’s face, mind denying it all, denying everything.

No.

This wasn’t real. This was a dream. This was a nightmare. This was a hallucination. A night terror induced by someone who was angry with him. This wasn’t real.

Sarish chuckled. Chuckled. “Th-that’s… th-that’s n-not funny. It’s not f-funny…”

That cold, hard stare did not waver. “No, it’s not.”

No.

The master laughed, laughed, shaking and shaking and slumping in Dustin’s grip because this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, how could it…?

Dustin?

Dustin?

No.

“Say their names,” an almost gentle whisper. “You know who they are. Say their names.”

“I-it’s not funny, i-it’s not a j-joke, p-please--”

“Say their names.”

“I-i-i don’t--”

“Say their names.”

“Y-you wouldn’t, y-you d-didn’t--”

“I killed three people, Sarish.”

No.

No.

Please.

“Say their names. You know who they are.”

No.

“Say their names, Sarish. Who did you make me kill?”

No. This wasn’t real. A hard slap to the face, his head clearing for a moment as he stared up at Dustin.

“Who were they, Sarish? What did you make me do? Who were the three people you made me kill?”

Alexandre.

Chanming.

Okimi.

No.

No.

“Dustin, please. Please. Tell me it’s a joke. Tell me you’re joking. Please,” as tears streamed down his cheeks, unwilling. Unable. It wasn’t true.

“I killed three people because of you, Sarish. Because of what you told me. You did this to me. Say their names. Say the names of the people you killed.”

“Alexandre. Chanming. Okimi,” he chuckled. Chuckled. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. How could it be? He trembled, his gaze unfocused as he chuckled and chuckled. Dustin wouldn’t kill anyone. Never. He was violent. He liked to get into fights. He liked to win. Yes, when he was angry he would take a swing at his master. That was all fine. That was Dustin. Dustin wouldn’t kill. It just wasn’t possible.

“All dead. All because of you,” the wolf was growling, growling furiously, bristling as it stared down at the frozen snow leopard. Sarish stared up at his friend. Willing him to break out into crooked laughter and proclaim him an airhead, to laugh and laugh and punch him hard in the shoulder and say ‘you should see the look on your face’!

Dustin’s expression did not change.

The wolf growled and snarled and snapped.

Blood dripping.

Blood marring a handsome face.

No.

No.

“In their sleep. Just now. In that very same order. They’re still in their rooms. I did that,” Dustin whispered, surprised, awed, disgusted. “Okimi did wake up. Chihaya’s friend, Chihaya’s former apprentice. She was too late, though. It was too late when she woke up. Too late.”

“You did this to me. You forced me to do this. You made me go too far. You compared me to them. How could you? How could you do something like that to me, to them? You made me kill them. I killed them. They’re dead. Because of you. You’re a murderer. A monster.”

A murderer.

A monster.

A monster. A monster. Monster monster monster.

How?

He had caused this?

Pulling him close, pushing his face into the taller man’s neck, feeling the stubble against his cheek. “You’re a monster. But I can forgive you. It will take time. But I need you. I need you to help me after what you made me do. I need you to fix me. You have to. It’s your responsibility. I can’t stay here. You can’t stay here. Come with me.”

"Come back to America with me."

Sarish thought that his heart might punch through his chest and drop to the stubborn, sparse mountain grass below, blanketed by fallen leaves. His soul was flickering dangerously, so weak, so scared. Incredibly distraught. Confused. Accepting.

They had caused this.

Monsters of a feather flock together.

Three.

Three dead.

Sarish’s fault. All his fault.

His soul solidified. His trembling ceased. His stiff posture relaxed.

“Yes,” Dustin purred. “Yes. Come back with me.”

A low sound started from somewhere. A rumbling in someone’s chest. It grew and it grew and then the snow leopard opened its maw and an unholy shriek ripped from its throat as it lunged for the wolf, glowing brighter than it ever had in the past, claws fully unsheathed and eyes wild as it leapt right for the other soul’s throat. The canine’s eyes went wide, terrified as it scrambled backwards, whining and whining and whimpering pitifully. The leopard was not deterred, and the wolf pulled itself out of its act, rising up to the challenge with a murderous gleam in its eyes. Too slow, too slow.

Dustin yelled in pain as the snow leopard’s claws sank into the wolf’s shoulder. Sarish tensed fully and shoved him back with all his might. The apprentice staggered backwards, looking up at his master with shock plain in those eyes.
Those familiar, welcome, trusted brown eyes.

Anger. Fear. Betrayal. Permeating the air as the master’s eyes glowed blue. Red.

The snow leopard’s shriek was now Sarish’s own as he stomped forward, thoughts consumed with red as he shot one hand out in a furious jab. Dustin was too slow to stop it, doubling over as the blow buried itself into his solar plexus. The wolf hunched as well, immediately knocked off its paws by the snow leopard. Both master and soul stopped, staring down at this stranger coldly.

Dustin coughed, wheezed, staggering back and away. His eyes grew dark as he stared at his master. “It’s your fault! You made me! You made me! I didn’t want to! It’s your fault! It’s your fault!”

Yes. Yes, it was. Two monsters out for the kill on a beautiful night. Two monsters would die tonight. Sarish would make sure that Dustin went first.

He prowled forward again as his snow leopard leapt back into action. The wolf drew itself up, the opponent now. Dustin straightened, a snarl ghosting across his mouth. It was nothing compared to the rage that twisted Sarish’s countenance.

And they attacked, all four beings snarling and snapping and yelling and punching and jabbing and blocking and twisting and lunging. Dustin lunged and Sarish dodged, grabbed his arm as the apprentice staggered past, and twisted, yanking and moving sharply until it broke in two, twisting and twisting until he dislocated his shoulder. The apprentice screamed and yanked away, the wolf crashing to the ground as the snow leopard lunged for its neck, only to be thrown off in a desperate move.

Dustin was trembling, shaking as he stared at his arm, completely vulnerable as Sarish stalked towards him, red tinging everything, red running through him and consuming him, destroying any merciful notions he might have had. The wolf recovered more quickly, rearing in time to dodge a vicious swipe at its throat, slamming its paws down onto the leopard’s lower back. It was Sarish’s turn to scream, legs giving out beneath him as he crumpled to the ground, his head striking the earth.

Dustin shook, Sarish lay still. The souls recovered more quickly, circling each other. And then the wolf’s eyes flashed and it was darting away, streaking right for Sarish. The leopard was faster, bringing it down as they devolved into an all-out brawl.
“Y-you did this. You made me into this. You caused all of this. You did this to me…”

The master did not respond, head spinning, the red sparking painfully in his vision now. His brain was knocking against his skull, his back was on fire. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move. He was going to die like this.

He would have died anyway. But Dustin had to die first. He could escape. They both had to die.

I'm responsible for my apprentice.

Sarish shifted, gathering his knees under him as his back screamed at him to lay back down, to succumb. His vision spun dangerously and blacked out for a moment, but he did not fall. Up, up on his feet. Lifting his unfocused gaze onto his apprentice, returning it to those earthy eyes even though his own slipped away again and again. And Dustin was staring back at him. And the American must have seen something because he froze, eyes wide and terrified.

Dustin never got scared. Dustin was Dustin. He would never let anyone boss him around.

Dustin was gasping, swearing, pleading, stumbling backwards. Sarish’s ears were ringing. He could feel his soul’s screaming in his chest as it battered the wolf without respite, the canine barely able to get a blow in.

Red in his vision. His soul was glowing red. He was shaking violently, his back ready to give out. Everything hurt. He could barely think straight.

Sarish stepped forward. Dustin shrank back.

“No.”

Yes.

“No, please.”

Yes.

“Sarish, please, don’t--!”

Yes.

“Sarish, you did this! This is your fault! You won’t do this, I know you won’t! Stop!” fumbling at the straws, fumbling for anything. His master did not stop. He could not hear, but he could lip read. Dustin was covered in red. Red everywhere. Everything was red.

Sarish’s eyes were glowing so strongly crimson that he could barely see.

Dustin’s mouth opened but his mouth formed no words. And then his eyes were squeezing shut and suddenly he was glowing a strong blue. He had no powers. He never did.

The wolf wrapped its jaws around the snow leopard’s throat and suddenly the screaming had turned desperate. The pressure was there, but the wolf wasn’t killing it. It was holding the leopard. And the leopard shrieked so loudly that Sarish could hear it.

His soul was being torn in two. Twisted, warped, tearing. Shredded. Wound after wound slashed across its pelt, long, deep gouges. Both ears shredded, nose split, a horrendous rend from its shoulder all the way across its flank. The master could feel it through their bond as his own mouth opened to join in the cacophony.

It hurt.

His chest hurt.

His very soul was being torn apart.

He was going to die.

Sarish suddenly found himself nearly chest to chest with Dustin. Shaking hands reaching up to weave into the apprentice’s hair, palms pressing into his forehead.

Desperate eyes opening, earthy brown orbs pleading. Begging.

Sarish could feel it all. Rage, terror, confusion, desperation. Pride. Conviction. There. In the shadow of it all. Guilt. Conflict. Sorrow. The monk took those, took the hidden emotions into himself, taking and taking as tears slipped from Dustin’s eyes.

It's my fault.

That had been a terrible idea. I needed to get Sarish to come with me, but not in this way. This was the wrong way to go about it.
Wrong.

He’ll come with me. Of course he will. He’s so damn gullible. He’ll come with me. I know enough to convince him. He will, yes he will. I’ve ruined his reputation. I know that he’ll stick up for me. He wouldn’t kill me. He wouldn’t let those damn monks kill me. He won’t. He wouldn’t. No way…

His confidence was wavering, his convictions cracking as his master stared up at him.

I killed people.

He took and took, and then stopped. The emotions coiled deep in him as his soul’s cry cut short, cutting off--

Silence.

Peace.

Sarish stared at Dustin, the red having faded slightly. Master and apprentice. Friends.

The snow leopard and the wolf.

They were both crying.

Dustin reached up with his one good hand, placing his shaking palm over his master’s, terrified eyes pleading, pleading.

“I’m so sorry.”

And then Sarish reversed the flow, building up Dustin’s-his-emotions until they were unbearable before directing them back into his apprentice.

Someone screamed.

Both, one.

Sharing in the pain.

Guilt and sorrow and fear and pain and conflict and anything that the master could find.

Anything, everything.

They were one in the same, one in the same head.

A terrible amalgamation of two men, tearing one mind apart.

It's too much.

The man in his arms screamed until his throat was raw and the sound pitched higher and higher before curling into a guttural groan low in the chest, slipping out of his master’s grasp and falling to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

The other stayed standing, vision completely red. Trembling, though he couldn’t feel it.

My fault. My fault. All my fault.

His knees gave out and he fell beside his apprentice.

The wolf was gone. The snow leopard was still, stiff, torn again and again even as the wounds healed. It wasn’t the other’s powers doing that, then.

All my fault. I killed those people. That wasn’t right. I needed to get him to come back with me. Sarish… No, I’m Sarish. I’m Dustin. One in the same. I’m… dying.

He just had to wait. His soul was dead. Both of his souls were dead. He would be dead soon as well.

Yes.

Yes.

He curled in on himself, eyes wide but unseeing.

Waiting.

Soon.

Just wait.

Something stirred in his chest. The barest of flutters. A flicker of warmth. For a millionth of a second.

Barely there.

His soul was alive.

No.

No.

We must die. Both of us. All of us. Sarish... no, I'm... Dustin...

They must both die.

Something was touching him. Touching his soul. His soul wasn’t dead. It was still and stiff. Alive.

No!

His limbs moved and he struck something. Lashing out.

You don't understand!

Stay away!

Dustin has to die!

Sarish has to die!

One of his arms was grabbed.

His soul was still and stiff.

No!

Something was on his chest, pinning him.

No!

Power was rolling off of him with the force of a monsoon.

No!

Hands on his forehead.

No!

His mind slowed. His strugglings ceased.

N-no!

He was so tired.

So tired.

N... no.

No.

And he slumped as his heart shattered in his chest, cold, so cold.

Goodbye Dustin, Sarish.

---

Sarish woke up screaming. There was a flurry of movement and then suddenly a hand was being pressed to his mouth, Dustin's face peering down at him with equal parts confusion and anger and worry. Worry. Sarish stared up at him, confused, terribly confused. What... how... his eyes flitted around the room. He was on his back in a bed in a room... there was another bed, there was the wolf sitting at one corner of the bed he was on, watching him warily...

Oh. Oh, right. They were in a hotel in Kathmandu. They had... trekked down the mountain last night. Money had changed hands and the men had left. The wolf had stayed, walked through the streets with them. They had found the best hotel available, and Dustin had simply held up a card when the sleepy employee behind the counter had frowned down at the wolf. The room was huge, fancy, two massive beds... Sarish's lip had been bad enough that Dustin almost decided that they go somewhere to have stitches put in. That idea had ended up falling through, and the monk didn't protest.

He didn't care. He could hardly breathe, his ribs hurting him as Dustin stayed staring down at him, hand still clamped over his mouth. They didn't move for a long moment. And then slowly, slowly the American lifted his hand. Sarish shut his mouth. The former sighed, shaking his head. "The hell, Sarish?"

Sarish didn't have an answer to give him.

"Alright. Alright. Jesus Christ, man, don't do that ever again, do you understand me? Holy hell," Dustin growled, not moving from his seat on the edge of the bed. The wolf kept its gaze on Sarish, who did not move. The taller man grabbed his phone, unlocking it and reading something. "Alright. We've got a flight in two hours. A transfer, and we'll be home. You won't like flying. Not at all, but I've got some pills to help you sleep. You won't have to deal with any of it. No more screaming when you wake up, though, airhead," he huffed, still tense.

Sarish didn't respond, numb and quiet as he stared back at the wolf.

"It won't be an issue to get you through... I can get the papers to get you into America. Dammit, why is it so damn hard to get into places these days..." Dustin griped, frowning deeply. "So much damn money. If you had just agreed the first time I had asked... ungrateful, idealistic, airheaded..." growling, growling and angry. He was angry. Upset, shaken, yes. Shaken by the outburst. Something else. Dustin was so easy for Sarish to read sometimes...

"What the hell?" the American was turning back to glare at him. "Say something. Don't just lay there. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sarish didn't have an answer for that either. He shrank into the bed, making himself smaller. "Sorry," murmured.

"Shut the hell up," and then the phone was face-down on the bed and Dustin was leaning closer. "What the hell happened to you? Where's that optimism? Where's that calm, work-oriented manner? Where's the teasing, where are the moments where you go quiet and your eyes go distant and for a moment your mask falls away? What the hell, Sarish?"

You. You happened.

"Sorry."

"I said," and Dustin drew back, and Sarish flinched so badly that he let his hand drop. His tone fell, quieter now. "Shut the hell up. Be that way if you have to. You'll see. I don't have time to explain right now, but when we get back you'll see. I need your help. I always have, and I still do. I've got someone else now too. She needs someone who actually knows what he's doing to teach her."

Ah. How nice. Another. With powers, then? How had that happened... Sarish wasn't too surprised. Anything was possible at this point.

"I missed you," gentler now, warm and truthful.

"And I you," responding ever softer, barely audible. That was enough for Dustin, who rose from his seat, his wolf not moving a muscle. "I'm expecting a phone call. It means that I'll be talking to someone far, far away. That person I was talking about, the other person who needs your help. Stay there. You look like hell," he paused. "But I'm so glad to see you again. I never thought..."

Me neither.