Luckily for him, he'd mostly dodged whatever sickness--brought on by the fucking cats, he supposed--was floating around the place. Some were in terrible shape, but for his part, it was sniffles and a slight ache in his bones. It was no worse than a winter cold, and he used it to his advantage, choosing now to make his move. He strides around the camp, amid the pungent smell of disease and cat urine, nose wrinkled.

He was looking for Alarian, and he didn't really know where to find him. Nose in his cache, looking for herbs for the sick? Curled up with Delight somewhere? Playing with the children? In his utter sense of what the fuck is even going on in this place, he stopped just outside the boulder, sitting down hard on his haunches. There was pain etched clearly into the lines of his face; he looked much older than what he was, a shell of what he used to be.

Alarian was fine, when he'd arrived. Maybe he had his problems, but he had been fine. Then Runion had fucked him up, not once, but twice. And then Zamael had pushed him completely over the edge--he had tried to fucking kill himself! And it was Zamael's fault. It was--he couldn't deny it. He'd take that truth to his grave.

His breathing came hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew it would be okay, that Delight would take care of him. Delight: he was good for the boy. A good, strong presence. Exactly what he needed. Zamael was the embodiment of all the chaos he had chosen to escape.

Well, fuck that. Zamael loved his brother too much to be the bringer of bad things.

It wasn't a goodbye, not forever. Just long enough for the wounds to heal. For both of their wounds to heal.

Then he came, and Zamael felt like a worm. Dirty, unworthy of such affection. He swallowed, struggling to meet his brother's champagne gaze. Knowing that when he spoke, it would be forever. Not the goodbye, but the knowledge of it. Just another grievance Alarian could hold against him until the end.

"When I found you. . .in your den. . .a part of me died," he whispered, throat so tight it ached to even speak. "I had failed. Failed to keep you safe from harm. Runion--Runion wasn't the only douchebag brother that hurt you. Maybe I hurt you even worse. Bad enough to. . ." Die. The unspoken word lingered like a mosquito, buzzing angrily in his ear.

"I'm who you've had, for at least part of your life," Zamael continued. The tears in his eyes blurred the image of his brother; perhaps it was better not to see him, lest the sight do him in more. "I've tried my best to take care of you. But Alarian. . .I failed. I'm who you've had, but I'm not who you deserve. I am chaos, I am pain. I've completely fucked things up at every turn. And it's fucking killing me inside, Alarian."

He broke down then, narrow shoulders trembling as his head sank low. "God, I'm sorry for it," he sobbed, eyes and teeth both gritted shut. "I'm so sorry for what I've done, and what I'll do. I'm sorry for it all." Fucking pathetic. Fucking worm. Where was the bird, to snap him up? It should have come by now; if it were a merciful creature, it would arrive soon.

His brother's touch did nothing at all to soothe him; it further stirred the emotions, the tempest, and he whimpered like a child. Shaking his head, refuting everything--everything!--Alarian had to say. No matter how genuine it was. He deserved none of it.

"We're all chaos, Alarian," Zamael responded. "All the Keils. That's why they wanted us to come back." He lifted tear-reddened eyes to his brother's face, his own set in rigid agony. "But I'm the worst of the lot. I know better. . .I should know better. I care about you, oh god--do I care about you. More than I care about myself. But I've let you down too many times, and if you don't think so--I do."

His gaze darted round the clearing, looking for Delight. Hoping the dark man would come to alleviate some of this pressure. "I've gotta go, clear my head for a bit," he whispered. "I'm not leaving, not this time. Not forever. But I'll be gone for a while, Alarian. Long enough to. . .put the pieces back together. To try and make something of this fucking mess of a mind."

It was what he had wanted, after Carvel had died. That time, he had left without a word, slipping away before dawn. No one had known. Not even Alarian. This time had to be different. There was no choice.

What had Alarian said? He'd begged him not to go. And the memory of that whispered plea clawed at him, at the edge of every dream.

But would Alarian rather have his brother go--or should he fall apart at his paws?

Alarian did nothing but silently break down. It was like--fucking, he didn't know. Like someone had torn out his heart and was just stepping on it, squeezing it into the ground. It hurt, so bad; his knees buckled, and the feeling of complete and utter misery came over him like a wave.

"Delight--Delight is gonna take care of you," Zamael managed to spit out through the grief, tearful and hoarse. He sniffled, ashamed of the snot that dripped with the tears. God, how he must look. "He's. . .he's a good guy. He's the guy I always should have been for you. He's gonna be there for you better than I ever could be. And Eris, Lily, Korei. . ."

If Alarian pulled away, so be it. But Zamael rushed forward, trying to take his brother into his embrace. Treasuring it. Who knew when he'd return? How long would it take to turn himself around? Perhaps he never would, and he'd have to come back just as fucked up as he'd always been.

"I love you," he gasped, pressing his face into Alarian's pelt if allowed. Taking in the scent as familiar to him as. . .breathing, really. The scent of home. "I love you; I will always love you. I will never stop. And even when I leave, I will always come back. I know I've fucked up so many times, you have every right not to believe a word I say. . .

"Alarian, no matter how far from you I am, you are with me in my heart. Forever."

"I know," Zamael responded, nodding, still pressed against his brother. "I've never doubted that. Not for a second." How could he? Alarian, for his faults, had the gift of boundless love--at least, for his older brother. But for others, as well, perhaps. Delight? They grew closer with each and every day. Maybe Delight would have stepped into the role as adequate replacement, when he finally returned.

He hoped, for his brother's sake, that it was more than likely.

He pulled away, knowing that his time was up here. If he didn't go now, he never would. And he'd continue to fuck things up, continue to-- God, it was Alarian's dependency on him, right? He couldn't remain here as a crutch to his brother, an easy escape from the weight of the world. It was better for both of them that he left for a while. He knew this. He felt it deep within himself, like blood through veins.

"Take care of yourself, Alarian," Zamael whispered, running his nose along his brother's cheek one final time. "I love you."

With a last glance at the only wolf he had ever loved more than himself, Zamael turned and ran--

Ran, like a coward. Just like he had always done.