Herbalists' Cache The demon sat there waiting on her porch

A million thoughts went through his head. Every moment that they'd spent together, the plans they'd whispered and laid out - things that had never come to fruition. Stark could replay them, think of everything they'd said and everything they had shared and everything they had done and the fresh wave of emotion rose up in him. Stark trembled a little but Octavia seemed to settle and as if the two were trading off the level of distress they were in. 

A wild thought ran through him - maybe he should call Tambourine, maybe he should call Banner and Rhodes, maybe Octavia should be back home along her willows and her Keep, surrounded by wolves who cared. But then he wasn't even sure that they did, not anymore. All they remembered and all they would know was that Octavia was the reason that Pippin had ran and it had set in motion everything that had come to pass. Stark brushed his tongue over her brow again and wondered what calling anyone might do for her. 

Octavia was too far gone to recognize what was happening - Stark might not have known anything about medical healing but he knew what this was. All that calling the pack might do would be to send Tambourine into hysterics and he couldn't bare to see the boy like that. Not right then. He could think just a little while longer. "You know...you know I love you, right?" He asked softly, dumbly, as if she might wake like some princess in a fairy tale and everything would be okay. "I would have done anything for you...And...and I can do this too, you just...you don't worry. We'll be okay, Octavia." He whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion. 

He had thought himself distressed and hurt and upset; in reality the pain was just beginning. This would be the match to the kerosine of his despair.