Broken Boulder the end should be a good one

for @Alarian, present-dated

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.