[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/b7q00bG.jpeg[/img] [sup][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img] [color=808080][color=f8d296][b]lux[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/epVJyCn][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]..........[/color] [color=5c83a7][b]beckett[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/I6i6Lf5][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]..........[/color] [b]shore of lake montauck[/b][/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/sup][/center] [indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]Beckett knew before she moved. He knew it before the way her shoulders set with that quiet, terrible certainty, before her eyes ever lifted to meet his. He felt it in his bones, in the old instincts that had once kept him alive and now only seemed to tell him when something was about to be taken away. He hoped anyway, stupidly, desperately, that between him and Violet, between the weight of everything they’d survived to get here, she might listen. But hope had never been something Lux indulged in when action was required. When their eyes finally met, he saw it there, unmistakable and unwavering, written in the line of her jaw and the stillness of her gaze. She had already decided. Panic tore through him then, sudden and brutal, like the lightning itself had speared him straight through the chest. The flash came, blinding and white-hot, and in that instant she was gone, vanished into rain and shadow, leaving behind a hollow ache so sharp it stole his breath and left him frozen, heart hammering uselessly in his ears. He sat there, unmoving, as if the storm had claimed him instead, as if the thunder belonged inside his ribs now. The shelter felt impossibly empty without her, too wide, too exposed, the air stripped of the faint rose-scented warmth that had grounded him only moments before. His hands curled reflexively, reaching for someone who was no longer there, muscles screaming for motion while his mind lagged behind, caught in the terrible stillness between loss and action. He could hear the rain, the lake, Violet’s sharp intake of breath, but they all felt distant, muted, secondary to the roaring realization that settled over him like a verdict. [i]He had been here before.[/i] He had stood like this once already, begging someone not to make a martyr of themselves, watching stubborn resolve turn into irreversible consequence. He remembered the weight of that moment, the way it had carved something out of him and never given it back. And in that breathless second, Beckett understood with terrifying clarity that he could not survive it again. Not this time. [i]Not if it was her.[/i] The idea lodged in him like shrapnel, raw and unbearable, and for the first time in years the storm outside felt small compared to the one ripping through his chest. The thunder rolled on, indifferent and immense, but Beckett barely heard it. All he could see was the place where Lux had been, the space she’d left behind, and the unthinkable certainty that if the world took her now, it would take what little of him that was left with her. [i]Flash.[/i] Lux didn’t have to survive. She could live with that… Or die with that, more accurately put. She just wanted them safe. Beckett and Violet were her first [i]real[/i] friends. A life isolated in the mountains took that from her. It may have taken her fifty-five years, but now that she had it, had them, it wasn’t something she was willing to give up… But it was something she was willing to die for if it came to that. She just hoped that he could forgive her someday. [i]Gods let him forgive her.[/i] [i]Crack.[/i] She broke out of the bush, side stepping and pivoting around the adjacent tree to line up her shot. String pulled, muscles flexed tight across her shoulders, heel of her palm pressed into the grip, and fingertips anchored to the corner of her mouth. [i]Hold.[/i] The rumbling carried across the sky as she searched for a target. [i]Hold.[/i] The echoing was dying as she found it, a boulder hugging the shore of the lake, a straight shot. [i]Hold.[/i] The silence was consuming, filled with the sounds of water lapping against shore, droplets bouncing off of leaves and the tarp, and her bowstring creaking, taut in anticipation. [i]Loose.[/i] Lux’s fingers relaxed and the string rolled along her skin, snapping back into place as it sent the arrow flying through the air. The same guiding gust that followed her like an intangible guardian nudged the arrow to stay on course when it fought against the rigor of the storm. Then just as iron struck stone and the resounding [i]ting[/i] reverberated through the trees, a streak of lightning, bright and furious broke through the clouds and crashed into the boulder, splitting in two with an earth shattering [i]boom.[/i] The sound and spectacle drew the attention of the lurking shadows. They did not stop or pause, but turned abruptly, claws dragging trenches in the mud as they barreled through the trees straight for the sky-struck rock. The next strike of lightning tore the world open, and Beckett moved with it, not waiting for thought, not waiting for fear to catch up. His body reacted before his mind could argue, before memory could drag him backward into other storms and other losses. He grabbed Violet by the arm, felt the solid reassurance of her pack already slung over her shoulder, and shoved his own on in the same motion, muscle memory taking over as if this were just another extraction under fire. Mud sucked at his boots, rain clawed at his face, but none of it slowed him. His eyes were already locked on Lux, on the place she’d broken cover, on the slim, reckless silhouette that burned brighter than the lightning itself. Rage threaded through him as he ran, not the blind kind, but something sharp and desperate, honed by the terror of [i]almost.[/i] This time had to be different. It [i]had[/i] to be. He had to be fast enough. He had to reach her before the world decided otherwise. He closed the distance in a handful of strides, lungs burning, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs open from the inside. His hand fisted into the back of the borrowed jacket she wore, and he yanked her hard against him, grounding her in the brutal reality of his grip. She was solid. She was here. Violet was already ahead of them, moving fast and sure, the only sensible choice when hesitation meant death. It was now or never. Beckett didn’t slow, didn’t stop, just pulled Lux with him and then yanked again, harder, urgency carved into every movement. He couldn’t afford to wait for thunder or lightning or waves to cover them. He couldn’t afford to be clever. He’d already lost once to patience and timing and the cruel assumption that there would be another chance. He leaned down as they ran, rain streaking his face, breath ragged, and broke the one rule he’d lived by since the war, since loss had clawed its way into his chest in more ways than one; [i]don’t speak unless you absolutely have to, don’t let anyone in.[/i] He had to. This mattered more than stealth, more than survival, more than pride. His voice slipped out raw and unguarded, barely louder than the rain, meant for her alone. [color=5c83a7]“Please.”[/color] The word fractured at the end, desperation bleeding through despite his effort to hold it together. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. His grip tightened, his pace never faltered, and he ran like a man who refused, absolutely refused, to let the storm take her too. After her shot, Lux was temporarily stunned and blinded by the serendipitous strike of lightning. She spun around, pressing her back against a tree beside her, feeling the bark cling to the fabric of the oversized jacket while the wet and cold of the storm started seeping its way through the layers, embracing her in that familiar chill. Her eyes closed as she rested her head back against the tree trunk, listening and counting. [i]One Mississippi[/i]... The beasts tore through the trees, snapping underbrush and branches under paw and talon as they neared the rock. [i]Two Mississippi[/i]... There was another stirring, not near the beach, but closing in on her. It lacked a predator’s finesse. The footfall was heavy and urgent. It didn’t wait for timing or precision. It tore through the woods fast, carving the earth under its fury rather than moving with it. [i]Three…[/i] Lux’s eyes opened to find Beckett barreling down on her. There was a brief, fleeting moment, of what could be called nothing other than a startled bliss, when she saw the way he didn’t follow orders or plans, but threw them all into the wind out of fear that she wouldn’t follow. But as quickly as it came, it was washed away in the downpour of rain that fell on their heads as he grabbed a furious fistful of the jacket, like an angered father dragging his child by the collar of their shirt. Her face twisted and contorted, eyes cast under dark shadows by brows furrowed with indignation. Praise the Gods for the thunder crash as if it knew she couldn’t bite back her startled protest. [color=f8d296]"What are you doing?!"[/color] Lux seized his wrist in her grasp, not pulling it away but seeking answers. But his gaze didn’t linger. Beckett pried her off the tree, bullet fast and unrelenting as he dragged her through the forest, no regard for the plan or timing his movements in sync with the storm. Just blind determination as he dragged her along behind him. More than once she tried to break free of his hold, not to run a different way, but to give herself a chance to run of her own accord rather than being pulled along like an unruly child. She was fast, faster than him and he knew it. But his grip held fast, unyielding and white knuckled… When he let a single word fall free, masked by rain and slosh of their feet sinking into the mud with every step. Too quiet and too unguarded to be for anyone else than herself. She tried her best to keep up with him, stunned by a word spoken when he was normally silent, tripping over mud and roots, rarely able to find her footing before Beckett gave her another yank. Lux spared a quick glance over her shoulder and her stomach sank. The two shadows had turned around, drawn to their clumsy steps and disregard for stealth. This wasn’t going to work, not his way, bullheaded, loud and sloppy. She knew she couldn’t over power him, he was too strong. Surprise was the only way she could stop him and maybe, just [i]maybe[/i] knock some sense into that war addled mind of his. Lux kept pace, waiting for the thunder, for an opening. When the sky roared to life around them, she turned towards Beckett, fingers curling into the breast of his shirt. With a forceful shove and a nudge from a gust of wind at her back, she pushed him off course, backing him up into a tree. She held him there with a determined frustration, shoving him back into place if he dared to try moving. More silent praises were said to the Gods for the darkness of the storm that hid the tears that welled in her eyes. [color=f8d296]"[i]Asshole[/i], the plan,"[/color] she hissed beneath the thunder, her words trembling in unison with the dissipating rumbles. She kept Beckett pinned in place best she could as she peeked around the side of the tree, catching a glimpse of the creatures as they stalked closer, slow, patient… searching. Lux dipped back into the shadow of cover, turning so her back was pressed against his chest, forcing them to blend into the darkness like an extension of the tree. Beck’s breaths and pulse, racing but steady, grounded her as she took one of her remaining arrows and nocked it. Then again, she exhibited patience, bending to the will of the storm, not fighting against it. Following the next flash of lightning before the thunder would devour everything, she stepped out and let loose the arrow. It soared through the trees, weaving more than flying straight until it collided with another rock, drawing the monsters away a second time. Beckett felt her before he could stop himself from noticing her, the press of her back against his chest fitting with an ease that unsettled him more than the monsters ever could. The contour of her body aligned with his like it had always belonged there, like some cruel part of the universe had decided to show him what [i]right[/i] felt like at the worst possible moment. He let out a slow, measured breath through his nose, forcing his thoughts anywhere but the warmth at his sternum, the way her shoulders rose and fell in time with his own. He dragged his mind to safer places—to the burn of anger still simmering low in his gut, to the humid jungles of Vietnam and the discipline that had kept him alive when feeling anything too deeply meant death. He clung to those memories like lifelines, grounding himself in old ghosts and old rules, because if he let himself linger on the way she fit against him, on how easily his body recognized hers, he knew he would lose something he could not afford to give up. Beckett’s jaw ached with the force of his teeth clenching, the low, burning coil of frustration thrumming through his chest like a live wire. Even now, even after the crack of his own voice had bled into the storm and Lux had heard the raw, unvarnished desperation he’d tried so hard to cage, she refused to listen. She moved like a storm unto herself, a force of nature that no plan could contain, no vote could sway, no caution could restrain. The anger churned deep and cold in his gut, darker than the rain-soaked shadows around them, sharper than any blade he had ever wielded, and yet it was not aimed at the storm, or the monsters, or even the mud that clung to his boots. It was aimed at her. At her obstinate, relentless refusal to make this easier on him, at the way she refused to bend for anything or anyone, even when the world threatened to swallow them whole. He hated her, yes—but not in the simple way of childish spite. He hated her for forcing him to care so deeply, for dragging him into the very peril he’d sworn he could survive alone if he must. His hand clenched impossibly tighter around the jacket she wore, fingers pressing into the wet fabric so hard that the tremble running through them vibrated along her spine, and for a heartbeat he allowed himself to imagine letting go. Just letting go, stepping back into the shadows, detaching from the chaos, from the responsibility, from the weight of their lives. It would be safer, easier. He would walk away, abandon the madness and survive. The darkest part of him, the part that had seen war chew up the bravest and the best, that had counted friends lost to folly and fate alike, rose to the surface in that moment, whispering with venomous clarity that release was an option. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let her go. Not her. Not Violet either. Not now. Not ever. And the hate for the choice she forced upon him, stubborn, impossible, infuriating, coiled with the same desperation that spurred him forward. So he let go, but not in the way he desperately wanted. Slowly, deliberately, as if conceding to the storm and the forest and the inevitable, he released his grip on the jacket. His fingers slipped free, leaving her there, wild and untamed in the deluge, and he braced himself, heart hammering so loudly he could almost hear it over the rain. Lightning flashed, illuminating the trees, the mud, the twisted shapes of the forest like the world itself was holding its breath with him. He looked around, scanning for shadows, for movement, for the subtle hints of the monsters’ approach, and for Violet. And in the hush that fell after the thunder’s roar, when the storm seemed to pause in anticipation, he let his voice break the silence, shakier and smaller than he intended, almost swallowed by the rain. [color=5c83a7]“Where’s Violet?”[/color] he whispered, breath ragged, urgency wrapped in uncertainty. Violet hit the tree hard enough to rattle her teeth. Cold bark bit into her palms as she pressed herself into the curve of the trunk, breath tearing in and out of her chest in sharp, uneven pulls. Her lungs burned. Her legs shook with the aftershock of motion finally denied. Rain slicked her hair flat against her neck, curls clinging to her skin like damp ivy, and every nerve in her body screamed at once—[i]stop, hide, listen.[/i] The storm did not care. Thunder rolled overhead, fractured and furious, lightning strobing the woods into moments of frozen clarity before plunging them back into ink-dark chaos. Somewhere behind her, the earth groaned, roots splitting stone, soil shifting like something alive and angry beneath the surface. Monsters howled in the distance, their voices carried and distorted by rain and wind until it was impossible to tell how close they were. Too close. Always too close. Beckett. Lux. The names burned through her chest like a second heartbeat. They had been together, [i]they were supposed to stay together,[/i] and somehow, in the blind, desperate mile of running, the world had reached in and tore them apart. Sloppy. Careless. Stupid. Violet swallowed hard, throat tight with the weight of it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t how they survived. Separation was death. Isolation was a weakness. She knew this. She had always known this. They would be stronger [i]together.[/i] But knowing didn’t stop the fear. It lanced through her ribs, sharp and immediate, at the thought of one of them hurt, of Beckett’s grim, stubborn resolve finally costing him something he couldn’t get back, of Lux’s small, defiant body crumpling under claws meant for something bigger, stronger. The idea of losing them hollowed her out in a way she wasn’t prepared for, a pain deeper than anything the rest of the world, than [i]she,[/i] had ever shown her. Friends. The word felt fragile and enormous all at once. They weren’t just allies anymore. Not just people moving in the same direction out of necessity. They weren’t just her mission. They were her people. Her first real ones. Something dangerously close to family—a thing Violet had never learned how to lose without breaking. She forced herself to breathe. In. Out. Count the seconds between thunder. Count the spaces where sound swallowed sound. When her breathing finally evened into something that wouldn’t betray her immediately, she took a risk she knew she shouldn’t. The storm was loud, yes, but monsters learned patterns the same way demigods did. Still, the silence pressed too hard against her chest, and fear made cowards of plans. [color=AE76C4]“Beckett?”[/color] she called, voice barely more than breath, thin and shaking as rain slid down her jaw. [color=AE76C4]“Lux…?”[/color] The name left her mouth like a prayer. Something answered. Not a voice. A growl. It rolled out of the dark low and wet, a sound that vibrated through the ground and up her spine, ancient and territorial and very, very close. Violet’s blood went cold in an instant, shadows at her feet recoiling as if burned. Her heart slammed once, twice, then she twisted on instinct, body already moving before her mind could catch up. Lightning split the sky. For a fraction of a second, the world was white. Teeth. Claws. A mass of muscle and hunger surging toward her, eyes reflecting the storm with feral intelligence. It lunged. And then—a scream. Sharp, piercing, human, cutting through the downpour just a few feet away, splitting the air in half with terror. Beckett froze for only an instant, the smallest fraction of a second, and then instincts took over. His hands clenched into fists, rain plastering his hair to his skull, mud sucking at his boots, and he surged toward the sound. He trusted that Lux would follow, at least this one time. Every muscle, every sinew, every ache from the endless journey since Vegas screamed with urgency, they had no choice now. No hesitation, no planning, no voting, no arguing. Just run. Just move. Just survive. Lux would be with him, and they would find Violet together, or they would all fall. And in that furious, impossible moment, Beckett understood the depth of his own fire, not just for survival, not just for fear, but for the people who had become his world, the ones he could not, would not, leave behind. Every pulse in his veins, every memory of war and rain and lightning sharpened into one singular, unforgiving purpose: keep them alive, no matter what it cost. The scream reached deep in Lux’s chest, constricting around her heart and squeezing. Whatever she had felt before wasn’t adrenalin, wasn’t a rush, but a resolute calm, an acceptance that her distraction would buy them time, precious time they could use to get away. But then Beckett couldn’t just follow the plan, couldn’t let her make the choice, make the sacrifice just once. If he was the stronger one, then why the fuck should he be the one to die? He was useful, more important, suffered more—[i]Mother fucker![/i]—He asked for a plan, for [i]her[/i] plan. She gave him what he wanted, an answer, a solution. It was perfect, but if they were patient and he [i]listened[/i]—Why couldn’t he listen… just once?! Whatever she had felt before, whatever calm resolve was replaced by pure, unfiltered adrenalin. It coursed like electricity through her veins, feeding her energy and synapses firing with a drive that had been drained from her days earlier. Her mind focused to the point of a needle, pushing away the anger she felt towards Beckett, and that other feeling she couldn’t name that clawed into the pit of her stomach at his single word… [color=5c83a7][i]Please.[/i][/color] Because it wasn’t about him now, it was about Violet. Lux took off the second Beck did, without hesitation, without thought. Just action. She slipped her bow over her head and kept the single remaining arrow grasped tightly in her palm ready to strike, as a last defense or a last resort. She barreled toward the scream, weaving through the brush, dunking beneath low hanging branches and using the momentum of a turn and a hand on a tree to launch herself forward. Beckett was stronger, unstoppable, but Lux… Lux was faster. She was small, swift, and agile with the headstrong determination of a caged wild animal set free. Beckett knew it the moment she surged ahead of him—that sickening, unmistakable truth snapping into place with the clarity of a gunshot. Lux was faster. Smaller, lighter, built for this kind of chaos in a way he wasn’t, and the realization tore a curse out of him before he could swallow it back. [color=5c83a7]“Shit—”[/color] The word was ripped apart by the rain, by thunder, by his own breath as he pushed harder, legs burning, lungs screaming, hands shaking so badly he couldn’t tell if it was exhaustion or fear clawing its way up his spine. He barreled after her anyway, caution abandoned, survival instincts overridden by something far more dangerous. He had already lost people to screams like that. He would not lose another. Not her. Not Violet. Not tonight. They broke through the trees just in time to see the ground itself betray the monster. The earth twisted and split open in a violent, unnatural spiral, darkness yawning wide beneath clawed feet and snapping jaws. The creature howled as it was dragged down, sound stretching and warping as if the pit were swallowing not just flesh but noise itself, until there was nothing left but churned mud and rain slamming into empty space. Lightning cracked overhead, searing the moment into Beckett’s vision, and in that flash he saw Violet on the far side of the collapsing void. She stood with one arm thrust out, fingers curled like talons, body locked in a rigid, defiant stance as if sheer will had held the world open long enough to consume their enemy. There was a tear in the side of her shirt, white fabric soaked through with crimson that ran in thin rivulets down her ribs. Her hair clung to her face and neck, plastered by rain and sweat, her skin frighteningly pale beneath the grime. Her outstretched hand trembled violently, the effort of whatever she’d done still ripping through her. When the darkness finally sealed itself shut and the forest rushed back in to fill the void, Violet’s arm dropped. She stared at them like she wasn’t entirely sure they were real, eyes wide and unfocused, shaking her head as words stumbled out of her. She didn’t know—she didn’t know what happened—but they had to go. Howls tore through the woods again, closer than Beckett liked, sharp and eager and multiplied. His heart slammed against his ribs as he closed the distance between them, rain slicking his boots, nerves screaming. He caught Violet’s gaze, forcing himself to stay steady. [color=5c83a7]“Can you run?”[/color] he asked, voice low but urgent, already bracing for the answer he feared. She nodded. Of course she did. Violet always did. It didn’t matter. Beckett stepped in anyway, caught her arm, and pulled her bag from her shoulders, slinging it onto his own, bearing the extra weight to make her lighter, as if sheer stubbornness could carry them all through this. He turned then, eyes finding Lux through the rain, panic and fury tangling tight in his chest. [color=5c83a7]“Then run,”[/color] he snapped, sharper than he meant, harsher than he wanted, already moving again. [color=5c83a7]“Let’s go, I won’t watch you get mauled by a fucking monster because of your stubbornness, Slade.”[/color] He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for thunder or lightning or miracles. He pushed her ahead of him, both of the girls, and urged them into a run, jaw clenched, refusing, absolutely refusing, to look back at the monsters chasing them. While Beckett played twenty questions, Lux hurried to Violet’s aid, gently lifting up the hem of her shirt to check the cuts in her side. The rain washed away the blood in a stream of crimson that ran down her side and stained her pants. Concern furrowed the blonde’s brows as she looked between the slashes and her friend’s pained eyes. [color=f8d296]"I’m sorry,"[/color] she croaked, the guilt hammered in her chest, heavy and relentless, a constant reminder like the tick of a cloak. It looked bad. She could see the strain on V’s face every time she drew in a breath, but luckily it wasn’t deadly. Stitches were needed and it was going to hurt like a bitch as they ran… But if they could just get to camp, get somewhere safe, then Lux could dress it. Violet’s breath hitched when she saw them, both of them, shapes resolving through rain and shadow into something solid, something real. Alive. Unbroken. The relief was so sudden and so sharp it nearly dropped her to her knees, a sob clawing its way up her throat before she could stop it. Her hands trembled, slick with rain and blood, pain flaring bright and hot along her side with every breath she dared to take. Gods, she was so tired. Hollowed out. One good excuse away from folding in on herself and letting the storm take the weight for her. But there wasn’t time. When Lux apologized, Violet shook her head immediately, jaw tight, swallowing hard against the ache burning behind her eyes. She caught Lux’s hand before she could pull away, fingers closing gently but firmly around hers, grounding herself in the cold, familiar reality of it. [color=AE76C4]“Don’t,”[/color] she managed, voice rough but steady enough. [i]You’re here,[/i] the squeeze said. [i]That’s what matters.[/i] She let go a heartbeat later, already pushing herself to stand steadier despite the protest of torn flesh and frayed nerves, already turning her gaze toward the dark ahead. They could fall apart later. They could scream and cry and argue when the ground wasn’t trying to eat them alive. Of course, neither of them seemed to care about waiting for later… like usual. When Beck barked orders at her, Lux’s head snapped around, incredulous and furious as she met his gaze. [color=f8d296]"If you would have stuck to the fucking plan,"[/color] she hissed beneath gritted teeth, a venomous whisper that road the tail of thunder. If he would have just done as she said, followed fucking directions for once in his damn life... She turned from him before he could say something else, now wasn’t the time to trade insults. There was no knowing where the monster went, but she wasn’t going to try their luck by getting into a screaming match that would rival the storm itself. Lux’s hand was gentle and coaxing against V’s back where Beck’s was abrasive and commanding, herding them forward like cattle. [color=f8d296]"You lead. I’ll be right on your heels,"[/color] her words were soft in a way their warfaring friend wasn’t, but no less urgent. She waited for Violent to set the pace, letting her get a few feet ahead of her but she didn’t follow, didn’t start running until Beck did. She’d be fucking damned if he derailed the entire plan for them to make a five mile sprint while he played martyr. Not on her watch. The storm followed them as they ran through the forest, pushing past exhaustion and the mud that clawed its way up their calves. There was no room or time for error as the beasts cried out in the darkness behind them, charging through the foliage like battering rams. Whenever one of them faltered the others were there, bolstering and lifting each other without sacrificing speed. No one left behind, no matter what. Five miles wasn’t long when compared to how far they had traveled, but now, in that final torturous stretch it felt like an unending gauntlet determined to watch them fail on the doorstep of salvation. Just when it felt like they couldn’t run any further, lungs on fire, gasping and unable to draw in enough air, they burst through the treeline. Stretched out before them was a small field, a narrow winding road that curved around it, and then there, beyond the clearing, like a beacon of light, was a Grecian arch, wrapped in ivy beside a large pine tree sitting on top of the hill… The entrance to Camp Half-blood. Something in Beckett finally tore. It wasn’t sudden, not really. It had been fraying for months, worn thin by endless roads and borrowed shelter, by hunger and mud and monsters that never stopped coming, by the way Lux always knew, always had an answer, a plan, a certainty sharp enough to cut through anyone else’s doubt. It lodged in his chest now like a twisting blade, a physical ache that made it hard to breathe, harder still to think. When she snapped at him, when she dared to throw the plan back in his face like a weapon, the pressure finally broke. A laugh tore out of him before he could stop it—short, cold, and utterly humorless, stripped of anything that resembled warmth. It sounded wrong even to his own ears, like something cracked loose and couldn’t be put back where it belonged. [color=5c83a7]“You’re unbelievable,”[/color] he snapped, the words spilling out fast and sharp, carried on the edge of thunder and rage, and he took two steps toward her, twisting around instead of running like he wanted to. [color=5c83a7]“You don’t give a damn about plans, Slade. Not really. Not unless it’s all [i]yours.[/i]”[/color] His voice shook, not with fear now, but with something hotter and more dangerous, the kind of fury that came from being pushed past endurance. [color=5c83a7]“Being outvoted? Listening to the [i]group?[/i] Apparently that doesn’t mean shit to you.”[/color] He laughed again, harsher this time, and it hurt, God, it hurt, to force the sound past the knot in his throat. [color=5c83a7]“But fine. [i]Fine.[/i] If you don’t want me to care what happens to you, then I won’t.”[/color] The lie burned even as he said it, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The dam had already burst, months of restraint and swallowed words crashing out all at once. [color=5c83a7]“Do whatever the hell you want. You always do.”[/color] Beckett’s laugh, cold and detached, cut through the storm, wedging itself into her chest like a dull, rusted blade. Lux froze, so close to the end, so close to safety and he unloaded on her like there was no longer a pretense for being kind or tolerating her presence anymore. She stopped walking, holding her ground and breath as he turned on her, anger palpable in the air between them, in the heat behind his eyes, and the venom that laced his words. Her blinks came slow and measured, unable to hold back the tears that welled against her lashes as one slipped free, trailing down her cheek. Her hands trembled violently at her sides, gripping the single arrow she had left like a lifeline to keep her tethered, keep her grounded… keep her from melting away beneath the storm. The second laugh stung more, like salt and grit rubbed in an open wound. Lux wanted to look away, to curl in on herself and disappear. But if he was going to unleash on her so openly, so viscerally, then she’d force herself to hold his gaze for every barb, every unguarded truth… Maybe then it’d smother the uncontrollable stirrings that twisted to life whenever she looked at him, strangle the spark that burned in her for a man who hated her, a man who cared out of forced obligation. If she could just hate him too… but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t… and that was the worst part. He twisted away from her then, abrupt and furious, refusing to look back, because if he did, if he saw her face, saw the hurt or the defiance or whatever truth lived there, he might break in a way he couldn’t afford. The anger turned inward just as quickly, snapping back on itself, because it was always her that did this to him, always her who dragged emotion out of places he’d buried deep for a reason. And because, worse than all of it, he cared anyway. That truth throbbed under his ribs like a wound he couldn’t cauterize. He shoved it down hard and surged forward after Violet, hands coming to her back and arm, urging her on with a grip that trembled with barely contained fury and something else he couldn’t name. [color=5c83a7]“Keep moving,”[/color] he barked, voice rough, every word scraped raw. He didn’t look behind him again. He couldn’t. Not if he wanted to keep running. Not if he wanted to survive what caring was doing to him as they ran toward salvation with monsters howling at their heels and his heart splintering in time with every step. When he turned away, Lux finally let herself breathe, drawing in a sharp, ragged breath. It was strangled and barely masked the sob she fought desperately to repress. She couldn’t will her feet to move, half tempted to let the storm and the earth swallow her whole rather than take a step forward. Her exhaustion had been chipping away at her, piece by piece, stretching her thin until the only part of her that remained steadfast hung by a thread that Beckett didn’t just snap, but cut abruptly with his own blade. The tears blurred her vision, stinging and relentless as she stared at his retreating back and the archway that now felt more ominous than hopeful. A camp for demigods where she’d be forced to be around him… [i]forever.[/i] No freedom from his ire or the constant torment his presence left her in. It was only the sound of a growl closing in from the woods behind her that gave her the will to move. One foot, then the other until she was trudging forward with a furious resolve. Her strides were long, determined, as she quickly closed the distance between them. Without even sparing Beckett a sidelong glance, Lux peeled off his jacket and slammed the damp heavy lump of fabric against his chest as she passed by. A shiver, violent and involuntary, passed through her body like a wave as her exposed skin was laid bare for the biting wind and the chill of the rain. She’d rather freeze to death than find comfort in his handouts. He fucking tainted it anyway. Lux marched ahead of them. Drenched blonde hair clung to her cheeks and the tops of her bare shoulders. Her cropped tank top hugged her chest like a second skin, rising and falling with every heave and quiet, angry sob. Combat boots sunk into the earth with each step as she crossed the field. It wasn’t long before she reached the other side and crossed over the narrow road to reach the base of the hill. She paused for a second to look up at it: the tall lone pine, the columns, the Greek letters that vibrated and shifted before her eyes until she read ‘Camp Half-blood.’ She took a single step forward to start her final ascent when a shadow emerged out of the side of a large tree that stood between them and the entrance. One large clawed paw stepped out, then another until she was faced with a mangled maw of razor sharp fangs. Saliva and rain fell from its mouth as it growled with piercing yellow eyes that were locked on her. She took a slow measured step backwards, snapping a twig underfoot. The hellhound snarled and lowered its head at her movement. Lux held up her hands part in surrender and part like she was trying to calm a wild, unpredictable animal. She still clutched that single arrow tight within her grasp, her final useless defense against a beast that weapons didn’t seem to hurt. Forced bravery repressed her other emotions and demanded action. She knew the moment she moved or made a sound it would lunge, so what she did next had to matter… it had to count. They were so close… She could see it. It was no longer about working together but surviving. One monster and three of them. It wasn’t heroism… It was basic math. Lux drew in a deep breath, preparing herself for what she knew would happen. Then before she could back down, her lips parted and words broke the seal. [color=f8d296]"Split up!"[/color] She dropped her arms and immediately darted left between the trees where the hellhound peeled after her. Beckett caught the jacket on instinct, fingers closing around the sodden weight without a word. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs anyway, not from force, but from the way something in his chest tightened further, like a knot being pulled too hard, too fast. The fabric was heavy with rain and mud and the ghost of her warmth, and holding it made every inhale ache, sharp and shallow, like breathing around a bruise. He curled it in his right hand as if it might anchor him, while his left tightened uselessly around the hilt of his own knife, the blade a comfort only in habit now, a lie he told himself because he didn’t know what else to hold onto. When Lux shouted, when the word [color=f8d296][i]split[/i][/color] cut through the air and the hellhound answered her decision with a feral snarl and a violent pivot toward her fleeing shape, Beckett froze. It was only for a heartbeat—but it felt like an eternity stretched thin. Every instinct in him screamed to go after her, to put himself between her and the thing barreling through the trees with murder in its eyes. Protect. Intercept. Die if you have to. But Violet was there, hurt, bleeding, pale, and as if the gods themselves were mocking him, another hound emerged behind them, low and massive, blocking the path she needed to take. He turned, panic flaring hot and wild, and met Violet’s eyes. She was shaking, breath ragged, blood soaking darker into her shirt, but there was something unyielding in her gaze, something iron beneath the fear. She took a shuddering breath and spoke his name like it hurt to say it. She told him to go. Told him she could make it. Told him she could handle the other one if she had to. The words landed wrong, struck something deep and fragile inside him, and he shook his head once, violently, like denial could rewrite reality. He couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t choose. The choice tore at him, split him clean down the middle, and for a moment he was nothing but a man caught between two people he cared for, both running headlong toward death in different directions. [color=AE76C4]“Go!”[/color] Violet screamed then, her voice cracking apart, raw and desperate and terrified. Because she understood, she understood more than she’d ever say. She understood how they felt for each other, and while the three of them had become something like a family, while they’d become her whole world in a few long weeks, she couldn’t imagine either of them without the other at their side. She could do this, and if she couldn’t… if there was ever anything worth dying for, she realized, it was this. [color=AE76C4][i]“Go, Beckett!”[/i][/color] That broke him. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. If he opened his mouth, he knew the sound that would come out wouldn’t be fit for either of them to hear. So he moved. He turned and ran, boots tearing up wet grass and mud as he chased after Lux, lungs burning, heart slamming against his ribs like it was trying to escape. The jacket flapped uselessly from his fist, forgotten but not released, and the knife bounced against his palm as if mocking him with its futility. Rain lashed his face, branches whipped at his arms, but he didn’t slow. He ran like the devil itself was on his heels—not the hellhound, not the storm, but the certainty that if he didn’t reach her in time, something inside him would be lost forever. Lux didn’t have a destination. She didn’t have the luxury to think about the future or anything that came after one step, then another. Her breaths came sharp like embers in her lungs, tearing at her throat with each inhale. She couldn’t hear the wheeze as her body desperately tried to drag in more air, all that flooded her ears was the rumble of thunder, the squelching thuds of her boots as they compressed puddled earth under foot, and the relentless pounding of a beast in pursuit with a speed she could not match. It was close, [i]so close[/i] that she swore she could feel its pants hot and hungry on the back of her neck. She vaulted over a fallen tree, graceful and poised, even in the chaos of her panic and adrenalin, only for the monster to charge through it like it was made of paper. She heard the log snap and felt the splinters against her back, but didn’t dare look back, she couldn’t. One minute of weakness could be her undoing, so Lux kept pushing harder and faster. All that mattered was that the hellhound was following her, not them. That meant Violet… [i]Beckett[/i], they had time to reach camp, to get help, safety or shelter… to [i]live.[/i] That was enough to keep her going, to strengthen her resolve and fight past the breaths that tore at her lungs like shattered glass, to push past the ache of her muscles that she willed to move over and over and over again. Maybe she could circle back around. Maybe she could follow the road back, and climb her way up the hill. [i]Maybe[/i]— Thunder died just as a fearsome growl roared through the silence of the storm. A paw the size of her head slashed down through the air, catching her as she went to weave through the trees, dragging razor sharp talons across her back. A piercing scream echoed through the forest, lightning crashed in unison as she was thrown forward and crashed into the mud laden ground. Gravity carried her down the decline of the hill, rolling over the rough grit of the earth until her momentum was stopped abruptly by a tree that knocked the wind from her. She coughed and wheezed while the eager pants and growls of the hound were closing in. Mud, rain and hair blinded her, and trembling limbs kept her from being able to get back to her feet. Her only defense was—[i]the arrow[/i]... Her hands were empty. The last weapon she had, [i]gone.[/i] Lux frantically ran her hands around the forest floor, feeling, searching… but finding nothing. The beast was close. She had to move, get up and run but her knees wouldn’t listen. Frozen fingers continued to scrub the underbrush, trembling furiously. It was nearly there, nearly on top of her. She could feel the earth shudder under its stride, feel the spray of putrid breath against her face when the familiar prick of an arrowhead jabbed into her thumb. She clutched it tight in her palm without a care for the cuts it would cause, then just as fangs lunged at her, she slipped from around the tree and threw herself down the hill. The hellhound, fast and bloodthirsty, barreled after her, charging through trees and bushes, leaving behind a path of ruin through the woods. It launched itself into the air, leaping over her tumbling body. As Lux rolled to a stop in a ditch along the roadside, the beast landed on the asphalt in the path of a loan car. A horn blared, followed by a loud crash as it slammed into the creature then swerved off the road into a tree. There was a second where Lux was able to breathe, settling into false hope that maybe… that was enough. But then it was on her. Teeth came down at her head and just before it had her, she shoved her left arm up into its maw. Fangs tore at her flesh, gnashing on skin and bone, coating her mud covered face in a spray of crimson. Another scream ripped through the air. She kicked and thrashed, but its hold was relentless, only chomping down harder at her struggle. Desperate to break free, she gritted her teeth through the pain, taking the arrow and stabbing it into the monster’s eye. Beckett ran like he was already too late. The forest tore itself apart ahead of him, a brutal trail of snapped branches, gouged earth, and churned mud marking the hellhound’s passage like a wound carved straight through the land. He followed it blindly, desperately, lungs burning so hard it felt like he was breathing fire, heart hammering against his ribs with a violence that bordered on unbearable. His thoughts narrowed until there was nothing left but Lux—her name a pulse in his skull, a prayer and a curse all at once. Every second stretched thin, every misstep a betrayal of the promise he’d made the moment he’d turned and ran after her. Fear twisted in his chest, sharp and merciless, but beneath it something else began to rise, something hot and unfamiliar, coiling tighter with every stride. He didn’t know what it was. He only knew it was answering the panic, feeding it, transforming it into something dangerous. He burst from the treeline just in time to see the lights. Headlights swerved wildly across rain-slick asphalt, a horn screaming in protest. The car slammed into the tree, glass shattering, steam hissing into the storm, but Beckett barely registered it. His eyes locked onto the moving mass of dark muscle and snapping jaws instead, onto the way it shook itself free and surged forward again, relentless. When he was close enough, skidding to a halt, he saw her. Saw the hellhound’s teeth clamped around Lux’s arm, heard her scream tear through the rain, raw and strangled but [i]alive.[/i] The sound shattered whatever restraint he had left. Something in his head, in his chest, snapped clean in two. The rain stopped. It wasn’t gradual. It didn’t fade. It simply ceased, as if the world itself had flinched. For a heartbeat, maybe two, maybe more, the storm froze around them, water suspended in midair, sound swallowed whole. Beckett didn’t notice how long it lasted. Time no longer existed. There was only the beast, Lux in its jaws, and the singular, overwhelming certainty that he was going to kill it or die trying. Power surged through him, undeniable and feral, roaring through his veins like a tide breaking free of its bounds. The rain obeyed him without question, folding inward, curving and sealing into a dome of churning water that locked them in together, a living wall that cut them off from the rest of the world. The hellhound released Lux with a startled snarl and twisted toward him, yellow eyes blazing, body coiling to strike. Beckett’s arm rose on instinct, no hesitation, no thought, the knife fell to the ground with a dull thud. The dome shuddered, then collapsed inward, the water twisting into a furious spiral, narrowing, sharpening, screaming as it obeyed his will. When he screamed—raw, wordless, ripped straight from his chest, and swung his arm down, the water followed. It cut through the beast in a violent arc, tearing into dark flesh with a force that made the air tremble. The hellhound yelped, thrown off course, stumbling as something thick and dark spilled from its side, but it didn’t stop. It never stopped. Its head snapped back toward Lux. [color=5c83a7]“No!”[/color] Beckett roared, voice breaking, and he lashed out again, rage overtaking control. Another blade of water tore free—but this time it wavered, unraveled, crashing down on them like a breaking wave. The rain returned all at once, slamming into his skin, soaking him to the bone, dragging him back into the world with brutal force. He staggered, snarling like an animal himself, eyes locked on the monster. [color=5c83a7]“Look at [i]me,”[/i][/color] he shouted, guttural and furious, every word soaked in blood and fear. [color=5c83a7]“Not her. [i]Me.”[/i][/color] It listened. The hellhound lunged. Pain exploded across his chest as claws raked deep, tearing through fabric and flesh alike, stealing the breath from his lungs in a ragged scream. He barely felt it. He barely felt anything at all. Beckett threw the jacket, the one Lux had ripped from herself, the one he’d clutched like a lifeline, over the beast’s head, blinding it for a split second that gave him just enough time to turn what would have been a death blow to mere injury. Teeth sank into his shoulder, claws tore again, and agony finally punched through the haze, dragging a sound from him that he couldn’t swallow back. He staggered under the weight of it, blood mixing with rain, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. His arms locked around the creature's neck, squeezing as hard as he could, trying for all his life to find the strength to kill it. Because if he didn’t, if it killed him first, then it would turn back to Lux. All that mattered was that Lux was no longer in its jaws. All that mattered was that the monster was looking at him, not her. The world narrowed to a cacophony of thunder, growls, and her own pained screams as Lux continuously plunged the arrowhead into the hound’s eye hoping it’d feel it, just once, just enough to give her an opening. Her vision blurred, reduced to a black mass of drenched fur and teeth. Its head reared back, a small reprieve before it would undoubtedly take her arm clean off. Then there was a shout, not of pain, but raw, furious and guttural that the earth itself trembled. Her vision came back without the rain pouring into her eyes in time to see water bend against gravity and cut through the hound. It yowled and a thick, dark ichor covered her legs beneath the beast’s belly. With its attention drawn elsewhere, Lux tried to crawl out from under the hellhound. She rolled onto her stomach, teeth clenched with heavy, pained breaths through her nose, trying not to draw its attention. Elbows dug into the mud like anchors as she pulled herself forward. Her feet pushed off the earth, but slipped, smacking into the monster’s paw. It reared with a growl. She buried her face into the shallow puddles in the grass, cupping her hands over her head protectively as teeth snapped so dangerously close its hot breath grazed along the tops of her knuckles. Then she heard it, [i]his[/i] voice, like a roar that cut through the storm, commanding and full of a rage like nothing she had heard before. One word tore through the rain and carved into her like the water had with the hellhound, deep, past the ribs, and straight to the heart. [color=f8d296]"[i]Beckett.[/i]"[/color] His name fell from her lips like a whimper, a desperate plea that twisted and constricted around her very soul like a snake. [i]He came for her.[/i] That thought alone stole the air from her lungs. In that dark finality, Lux found a glimmer of light, knowing that through everything, the fighting and arguing and the barbs that cut a little too deep, a little too raw… After all of that, he still came… But then as the rain came crashing back down on her, so did reality. The reality that he wasn’t safe beyond the camp’s borders, but here… with her… taunting the beast to turn its wrath on him. [color=f8d296]"No!"[/color] The word fell raw and strangled, disappearing beneath a crack of thunder as the hellhound turned from her. Desperate, Lux grabbed a rock sunken in the muck beside her and threw it at the monster. The stone could have been no more than a ball of snow given the way it bounced off its hide, not even drawing its attention. Beckett’s scream made the blood drain from her face and run colder than ice through her veins. It was a sound she never wanted to hear… something that hooked its talons into her and would haunt her until her last breath. Hearing his pain willed her body to move when she could not. Fingers clawed at the earth, pulling her up the steep incline of the ditch. But her knees buckled under the exhaustion and fatigue, refusing to bear her weight and stand. [color=f8d296]"Get up,"[/color] Lux muttered at her legs, as if words alone could force them to cooperate. [color=f8d296]"Get up!"[/color] A wave of wind heeded her words before her legs did, lifting her when her knees trembled and threatened to give. She needed time to catch her breath and muster her strength, but time was precious… And Beckett’s life more precious still. Lux didn’t wait, didn’t hesitate, she took one deep breath and ran at the hellhound. The wind buoyed her, gave her speed, and when she jumped, it bolstered her, giving her the right amount of height to land on the monster’s back. Her own pain was a dull roar at the back of her mind compared to the sight of Beckett, marred, blood soaked, and trying to strangle the beast like he was Heracles. Lux mounted the hound like a bull. She reached forward to grab the arrow still lodged in its eye, gripping it with both hands and pulling it back with every ounce of strength she had. Lean muscles slick with rain and blood tensed and strained as she pulled back on the carbon fiber shaft. Her entire body pulled against the arrow, holding the beast's head, writhing and gnawing just out of reach of Beckett. She grunted and panted through clenched teeth, putting her whole body into it, pulling so hard her back was nearly flat against the creature’s. With every struggle, every slip of her grip from the rain, dark clouds rolled across the sky, gathering and spiraling overhead like a tornado could drop on their heads at any moment. Static electricity tingled along the tips of her fingers and down her spine. The metallic scent of burning ozone filled the air around her as it stirred to life. Lux’s eyes went wide as they snapped to Beckett. The wind answered as if it knew without being told, slipping between the man and beast, severing his hold and knocking him backwards. The wind hit him like a living thing, not a shove but a command, slipping between flesh and fury with surgical intent. His grip tore free, fingers grasping at nothing as he was flung backward, the world tilting violently before his spine slammed into the ground hard enough to rattle his teeth and drive the breath from his lungs in a sharp, broken sound. Mud and rain swallowed him whole. He didn’t get back up. The pain finally caught him then, shoulder screaming, chest burning, exhaustion settling into his bones like lead, and for the first time since he’d started running, he let himself stay down. His vision swam, lightning fracturing the sky above, and through it all one thought surfaced with quiet, devastating clarity; if this was where it ended, then so be it. At least he would die with her. At least neither of them would leave the other behind. The clouds cracked open and a golden bolt of lightning shot down from the sky, slamming into Lux like a conduit. She could feel every synapse in her body alive, charged… [i]wired[/i] as the power didn’t shock her, but coursed through her, strengthened her. Electricity arced and buzzed along her body like lightning bugs running along her skin. Before she lost the control, the power, Lux’s grip on the arrow tightened. A growl, visceral and charged, roared behind her gritted teeth as the lightning in its entirety flowed from her, through the arrow, and into the hellhound’s head. Everything stilled… Then the creature expanded beneath her before exploding into a cloud of golden dust. Beckett’s eyes fluttered open just in time to see the sky break apart, gold light tearing through the storm as lightning speared downward toward Lux. For one breathless moment she was no longer just a girl standing in the rain, but something incandescent, alive with power, electricity dancing across her skin as if the storm itself had chosen her as its heart. She glowed in the darkness, terrible and radiant all at once, and the thought drifted through him, hazy and unguarded—[i][color=5c83a7]like a goddess.[/color][/i] Beautiful. So impossibly, achingly beautiful. His chest loosened around the pain, around the fear, and a quiet peace settled over him as he let his eyes fall closed again. He would be okay, he decided, if that was the last thing he ever saw. With nothing below her, Lux’s body careened forward, cushioned by the wind before landing in the ditch’s puddle. She coughed on the water that filled her lungs, but didn’t let herself rest or stop moving. Favoring her left arm, she crawled across the rain slicked grass to Beckett’s side. His shirt was gone, torn to shreds and lost to the storm. What was left was a gory mess. Flesh bathed in crimson, mangled and shredded to the point it was hardly recognizable. [color=f8d296]"[i]Oh my god…[/i]"[/color] Her voice was a strained whimper, raw from the sobs she could no longer keep at bay. She knelt beside him, trembling hands hovered over his chest and then his face, struggling to know what to do. For someone who always had answers, her mind was a vacuum. Her eyes were wide, terrified at the sight of him bleeding out before her. The only thought that repeated like a desperate prayer to him, to the Gods, to anyone who was listening… [i]please don’t die.[/i] Her chest heaved as she drew in ragged, strangled breaths. Tears cut trails through the blood and muck that stained her pale skin. She cupped his face in her hands, unable to stop the tremors that racked her body from the cold, from the adrenalin… from the fear of losing him. [color=f8d296]"You idiot… Why did you follow me?"[/color] Lux’s words had no malice or anger, just a sob of unspoken fear, gratitude, and adoration. Lux drew in one last shaky breath to steady herself and steel her nerves for one last push. [color=f8d296]"Come on, old man."[/color] She shifted to his left side, slipping her right arm through the mud beneath his back, while her left arm—fragile, broken, and bleeding—curved around the front of him. [color=f8d296]"You’re not dying here. I won’t allow it."[/color] With a loud groan and a surge of strength that had to come from the lightning… or maybe… [i]something[/i] else, Lux pulled him to his feet. The wind aided her where her strength faltered, a gentle hand against Beckett’s back and along her knees. On their feet, Lux dipped beneath his left arm, letting it drape across her shoulders while her right hand held his waist. She looked up at him, concern knitting her brows. Her left arm seared with pain at every movement, but she ignored it as she raised it to meet his hand that hung over her shoulder and laced their fingers. [color=f8d296]"We can do this… but I need your help,"[/color] she whispered, a quiet plea beneath the storm for him to make one final push for camp… with her. Beckett dragged his eyes open like it took effort just to convince them the world was still there. Rain blurred everything into streaks of silver and gold, pain pulsing in slow, heavy waves through his chest and shoulder, but her face was right there, steady, impossible, real. Lux. He felt something unfamiliar tug at his mouth, a weak upward pull that surprised him as much as it probably would have surprised anyone who knew him. [i][color=5c83a7]A smile. God, a smile.[/color][/i] The thought almost made him laugh, and maybe he did, a soft, breathless huff that hurt like hell. He tilted his head slightly, vision swimming, and murmured, voice rough and unguarded, [color=5c83a7]“You’re… stubborn.”[/color] The word carried no edge, no irritation, just something like wonder. His gaze lingered on her like he was afraid she might vanish if he blinked. [color=5c83a7]“And beautiful,”[/color] he added, barely louder than the rain, the confession slipping free before he could stop it. His head lolled to the side, heavy as stone, exhaustion finally clawing its way past sheer will. He breathed in shallow and uneven, forehead resting briefly against hers as if drawn there by instinct alone. [color=5c83a7]“I couldn’t…”[/color] he started, the sentence unraveling as quickly as it formed. His hand tightened weakly in hers. [color=5c83a7]“Couldn’t let you die… care too much.”[/color] A laugh, weak and lost beneath her sobs, fell free between them. His smile, unbidden and on the cusp of death tore through Lux like the hellhound through the forest, relentless, devastating and unapologetic. Her knees threatened to buckle under his weight, but mostly under his words… Under the weight of things left unspoken for three months given breath like dying confessions. It cleaved her heart in two. One half soaring weightless like a bird set free, silhouetted against the sun. The other half was like an anchor, impossible to bear, so heavy it sank right through her, through the earth, all the way into the pit of Tartarus. The soft pressure of his forehead against hers with his final confession seized her breath, both suffocating and life giving. Her fingers slipped free from his, moving to cup his cheek and help steady his head so he could meet her gaze. Beckett’s eyes, heavy lidded and brilliant blue, struggled to look back. Her thumb strokes his skin, streaking his skin with her dark crimson blood, determined to keep him conscious. [color=f8d296]"Don’t do that,"[/color] she begged him between sobs. [color=f8d296]"No dying confessions… I can’t lose you."[/color] Abandoning thought and reason, Lux closed the last bit of space between them, pressing her lips to his. It wasn’t passionate in the way she had imagined it in the dark of night when she couldn’t sleep and the only thing that gave her peace was the rhythmic cadence of his breaths beside her. It was soft and fragile like handling cracked glass, where one wrong move could shatter it into a million pieces. It was her final desperate plea to pull him back to reality, back to her… Or a final admission, the last secret that hung suspended between them given life, so in his final moments he’d know… Beckett kissed her back without thinking, without fear, without restraint, because in that moment there was nothing left to lose. Her lips were soft against his, gentle, trembling, and the tenderness of it undid him more completely than pain ever could. It wasn’t hunger or desperation that filled him, but something quieter and infinitely deeper, a warmth blooming in his chest that he finally understood what it was for. This was the spark he’d felt chasing him through storms and sleepless nights, the thing he’d never dared name because naming it would mean wanting it. He let himself want it now. He let the feel of her linger, memorized the way her breath hitched, the way the world seemed to narrow until there was only her and the rain and the steady truth of her mouth against his. He could die with this. He was certain of it. Peace settled over him, fragile and fleeting, and somewhere beneath it all was an apology he wished he could give her, but the words never came, and he let the kiss carry what he no longer had the strength to say. The truth of it sat between them, simple and absolute, the last thing he had the strength to give. Whatever else he might have said, whatever promise or apology lingered unspoken, never made it past his lips. His body betrayed him then, muscles going slack all at once as consciousness slipped through his fingers like water. Beckett sagged heavily against her, dead weight, breath shallow but there, still there. [color=f8d296]"[i]Beckett![/i]"[/color] she croaked as her left hand fell to grip his side in a frantic attempt to support him and not collapse under his weight. Tears burned her eyes as pained groans tore at her throat from the strain on her arm, shredded and broken from the hellhound’s maw. That was when Violet appeared through the rain-soaked blur, limping hard as she crossed the broken ground toward them. Blood streaked her side, darker now, and a fresh gash marked her calf, red against pale skin, but her eyes were fierce and focused when they landed on Beckett’s collapsed form. [color=AE76C4]“Lux,”[/color] she called, breath hitching with relief as she reached them, hands already moving, already helping. She slipped in close without hesitation, shouldering his other side, pain be damned. [color=AE76C4]“I’ve got him. Together, we can make it together, I’ll help.”[/color] she insisted, more to herself than anyone else, voice shaking but resolute. Together, soaked and bleeding and trembling, they’d make it together. The relief of seeing Violet through her mud and rain drenched locks of hair… [i]alive[/i], nearly made Lux collapse from relief. [color=f8d296]"Thank the Gods."[/color] Her voice cracked beneath the tears she couldn’t stop and the fear that gave her strength where she had none. [color=f8d296]"W-we have to hurry. He’s lost a lot of b-b-blood."[/color] She let Violet shoulder some of Beckett’s weight, but Lux still insisted on carrying the brunt of it, letting his head lull against her shoulder and his body lean into hers. This was her fault. He was hurt protecting her… She [i]was[/i] going to get him to camp. She had to. The wind, like an invisible whirlpool, circled them, helping buoy Beckett’s unconscious body and lighten the load. He was still heavy, and difficult for the two of them to carry through mud and rain, up a hill and injured, but they persevered, taking it one step at a time. Between their fatigue and bloodloss, the final climb was grueling, riddled with setbacks, and took a lot of time… [i]too much time.[/i] When they crossed beneath the archway, Lux felt a wave of static electricity wash over her. The rain that had been a relentless monsoon was washed away by a warm summer night. The dramatic shift in temperature overwhelmed her senses, making her head spin and her legs buckle under the burden of Beckett’s dead weight. She collapsed, dropping like every muscle in her body ceased to function all at once. Without her support, and unconscious, Beckett’s body tipped over in the void she left behind, falling like a domino beside her, and the weight of it all brought Violet down to her knees beside them. [color=d6d6d6]"Over here!"[/color] a voice called from somewhere beyond the tall pine tree. Lux fought to keep her eyes open, but with every blink they grew heavier and the world around her grew dark and hazy. [color=f8d296]"[i]Hel…[/i]"[/color] She tried to speak but the words were dry and rough like sandpaper in her throat, coming out little more than a wheeze. [color=d6d6d6]"Go get Chiron!"[/color] a second voice shouted, as more hurried steps surrounded them and the darkness took her…[/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] [center][sup][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img] [color=808080][b]interactions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] violet [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]mentions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] none [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]collabs[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [@Mjolnir][/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/sup][/center]