Noctisardor Bypass If you'd stay, I would even wait all night

Tag for reference.

Days passed and the relief of reunion settled into something bitter and weary. At every turn, his fantasies of a joyful meeting were crushed and churned to dust. First Swiftcurrent Creek. Then the blood, and Ophelia — no, he couldn't think of her that way anymore. Not when the name itself sent her spiraling to that far-away place where even Tybault could not reach her. He would have to find out what she was calling herself now, when she came to. If she came to; that fear never fully left him, and he didn't think it ever would. What if she just... didn't wake up? What if she stayed glassy-eyed forever, and it was his fault?
He moved through the bypass, the place he'd chosen as their temporary headquarters while they waited for their sister to awaken from her haze. If @Everett or Evander had argued, he hadn't heard any of it. Tybault had not been himself since finding O— since finding his sister. Sometimes he felt as far-away as she was. He went to check on her now, to see if anything had changed from the last time he'd left her. She seemed perturbed by his presence, by all of them, so he thought it best to leave her alone when they could.
Tybault knew immediately as he approached that something was different. She looked at him, really looked, her golden eyes focused in a way they hadn't been in days. His limbs went stiff and locked beneath him, though some distance still separated them. His mouth went dry as he realized he didn't know what to say. She was looking at him as if she saw right through him, down to his very soul, that same look Kukutux had given him. Seeing it from his sister, who he remembered as a gentle and undemanding presence, unsettled him deeply. He could only meet her gaze unwaveringly and wait for her to speak.

When the world came drifting back to her, Reverie first remembered the blood. Everett. Tybault. Ophelia. She shuddered and pushed it all away, and took a moment just to sit and let herself feel it without any thoughts crowding her mind. She didn't know where she was, but her brothers' scents were thick and fresh around her, so she knew not to panic. Not yet. They would keep her safe, and she would worry later about whether they would let her leave.
Except she couldn't save that worry for later, it seemed. She saw Tybault's approach before he seemed to notice that she was back, before he stopped and went stiff all over as if she'd slapped him. Reverie could only frown for a moment. Had he already spoken to Everett? She had no way of knowing how far away her last memory really was, in terms of time. How long has it been? She asked softly, because she wouldn't start this conversation on unequal footing. She needed to know.

She didn't even say hello. Tybault snorted, shook his head. A few days, He answered, not even bothering to hide his disgust. Don't worry, I'm sure your new friends will understand. Lestan seems like such a forgiving guy. Was that all she cared about now? These — fucking pack wolves and their neverending bullshit?
It hurt. Of course it hurt. He'd crossed the world to find her, and against all odds he had done it, and she didn't even say hi. She didn't say that she'd missed him, or that she was glad to see him, or anything. She wanted to know how long it had been. Pffft.

What? Reverie could only blink at him for a moment, too stunned to feel the hurt. He had met Lestan? When? What did they tell each other? But those questions were quickly swept away as she registered the plain meanness of the words. How dare you? She snapped, hackles bristling. She didn't think she had ever been so angry. That is - none of your business! And it has nothing to do with - this. Whatever is going on here.
Tybault tried to speak, but she cut him off. No. No. I'm not letting you do this. You always get to make the rules, Tybault. You force it on everyone. Not me. Not anymore. If you want me around - if you want that so bad you came all this way for me, you can learn to follow my rules. And here she stopped, because she wouldn't waste her breath if the answer was going to be no. If he loved her enough to follow her for months, to stalk her to the point of meeting the man she'd been seeing, but didn't love her enough to let go of his desperate need to control every situation that might make him feel an emotion, then — maybe it wasn't love at all. Maybe it was just obsession.

He expected her anger; he wanted it. Anger meant she cared, even if only enough to hate him. Anger was better than the emptiness of her first words, the threat of all his fears come true. Still, it stung him. She was the only one of his siblings who had never criticized him, never told him he was wrong for how he chose to cope. She had always listened to him when everyone else ignored the very existence of his feelings. Now she didn't want to. And she blamed him; she didn't have to say it, because it lingered under every word she spoke.
You think this is about rules? His own voice was cold and careful when she finally let him speak, but biting, a more deliberate kind of anger than his sister's wild fury. I spent months looking for you. Alone. Months, going from pack to pack, dealing with all of their bullshit - but fuck me, I guess, for hoping my sister might take the time to say hello to me after all that. I guess that's too controlling. All he could think was: you, too?
It was supposed to be them against the world.

It was hard to keep up with Tybault. He flawlessly sidestepped the conversation she meant to start, and turned it around on her. It was her fault, for not being grateful enough; her fault that he'd lashed out so cruelly, the way it was always everyone else's fault with Tybault. She thought bitterly that she was finally finding out what it was like to be on the other side of it. He even cursed at her, and she had to fight back the sudden prickle of tears in her eyes.
Reverie was silent for a long minute while she sorted through her thoughts. She didn't apologize for making Tybault wait. When she finally spoke, her words were as careful as his, because she wanted him to know that she really meant them and she knew that he didn't listen when he thought someone was being too emotional. If you came all this way just to make me care about your feelings, then... you should leave, Her voice was soft, but cold. I need to take care of myself. My feelings. Not yours.

He laughed. Take care of yourself? Take care of my feelings? Do you hear yourself, O- Tybault caught himself, but would not be stopped. This was ridiculous. Look at yourself. Let me guess: no one is bringing you food, so you don't eat. No one is taking you to bed, so you don't sleep. You don't know how to take care of yourself, much less anyone else. I came here because you need me. Because I took care of you for months. And I know that you think you can do these things, but you just can't. It's obvious.
Painfully so. His sister was wasting away, and these pack friends of hers — they were just watching. He smelled the pack on her, even now, and the scent of it was like a taunt. They were keeping her from him. They were letting her die. And they were putting all these ideas in her head, it must be them — these warped ideas about rules, about feelings. She would never do this to him otherwise, he knew it.

As careful as she was, Tybault still didn't take her seriously. He laughed, mocked her. Reverie's face flushed and she could only stare at him, rendered mute by hurt and outrage. He had never spoken to her this way before. He was always blunt, but never cruel, not to her.
But he was right, wasn't he? She wasn't taking care of herself. It was easier to forget, to try to be as light and immaterial as a passing breeze. That was what she wanted. Not this. Not him. She shook her head. I don't need you. I don't, She said, breath coming faster now. Stop - stop changing the subject. You know that you leaned on me - before Rose, before all of this. And then... then it happened, and you never talked to me! You never listened! You just - Reverie started to cry, and she choked on the words. Abandoned me. And now you're here, and you want me to care about you again. Like it never happened.

She was insane. She had lost her mind. That was the only conclusion Tybault could come to, because seriously, what the fuck? What was she talking about? For fuck's sake - I KEPT YOU ALIVE, He exploded, and he didn't care if it was too much for her. He didn't care if it overwhelmed her. Not anymore. Do you think it was easy? Because it wasn't. It was hard. And never - not ONCE did you thank me! No, she ignored him. Acted like his presence was such an inconvenience during those few precious moments of lucidity. And he took it in silence, because he knew that she needed the space to heal.
There were tears in his eyes too now, though they didn't fall. Tybault had always done what he thought was best. How was he to know that he was making the wrong decisions, when she never told him? Not until it was far too late to change it.

No no no don't please don't please stop —
A child's terror. She cringed because the loudness of his voice was sharp in her ears, it hurt, like thorns burrowing in her skull and she was so overwhelmed. She couldn't stand it. Not for another second. Days, they had been screaming at her for days —
No. Tybault. Here, now, and the betrayal cut so much deeper this time. Don't follow me, She choked, her voice sounding strange and not at all like herself. It didn't matter. She needed to leave. So she did. She ran. Again.