Firefly Glen some place we called home

Banished to the outskirts of his mind as a result of the sudden and violent explosion of emotion were his senses. He was made dimly aware of the shadow that settled itself beside him, and drew what little solace he could in the warmth he gave off. A vision of varigated tones of black and silver came as a queer comfort to him and he turned into the touch as if programmed to seek the source of it. There was an omnipresent yet hardly-realized connection he was forging with not only Cypress, but Rannoch as well, and he knew that chasing them off in his hour of weakness would sever it. So he wrapped himself tightly around it, refusing to budge from the only thing he had left to fight for.

He buried his nose in Cypress' chest, sniffling as the younger boy draped his slender head across his own shoulders. The words registered in his ears, and they quivered in response to the sound. He sucked in a breath, trying not to choke on his own spittle, and issued a low, long whine of pain. He loved them. He did. And in this moment he was caught between expressing his grief, and embracing their bond. He hurt, and he knew they understood, but he still felt foolish all the same for allowing himself to fall this far.

Rian's ribcage heaved a few more times, and slowly, slowly, began to settle. "I love you guys..." He murmured sloppily into Cypress' armpit.