Warmth

The floor was incredibly cold, and her hot blood tried to become a twisted comfort as it slipped through her fingers and slid on the surface of her skin, but it wasn't enough; she was shivering. In the distance she still heard voices, his voice being the only one she wanted to hear. He was screaming, calling out to her; she could sense his worry.

With every drop of energy she had left, she guided him, told him what had to be done, sent him a glare with a meaning only he could decipher, for he was the only one who knew her so well.

He listened to her, he wouldn't perform human transmutation. She was relieved, at least he would get out of this unharmed. Help was on the way, they would make it. There was silence, then more shouting, then chaos.

Those sounds and yells and air currents could only mean there was a battle being held, and she was in the middle of it. She was helpless, she couldn't move, she couldn't assist him, she couldn't protect him.

She felt what she guessed was a pair of arms lifting her from the cement, and her hand fell from the spot it had been pressing on in her neck. Was she still bleeding, anyway? She was soaked in the dark red liquid; there had been a pool of it around her. But she was lying against something softer now, her arms loose, and her body was being shaken, left and right and left again. It was him, begging her to stay with him, a desperate voice asking her to hold herself together.

She couldn't answer him, though; not anymore. She was only partly here, her consciousness dissipating more and more as the seconds passed. She no longer had the strength necessary to keep her eyes open, and she was very afraid that he would fear the worst. She didn't want him to believe she had failed him; she was still alive, and she would obey his order. She hadn't abandoned him yet, and she wouldn't ever.

It was too painful, though. She heard him and understood him. But the pain was too great and she couldn't react. He was scared, he was utterly worried about her and wanted nothing but to see her alive. But his voice sounded far away, in the distance. He was right here, she knew, but she was sinking lower into the darkness, the distance between them impossibly grand and still growing.

She wished he wouldn't give up hope. She wanted him to insist; to keep calling her. He screamed her rank the way another one would scream his lover's name. It didn't matter; they weren't defined by the words they used to acknowledge each other, they were defined by what they felt. And what he felt was dread of losing his light, his conscience, his pillar, his very soul. And what she felt was a sadness that engulfed her wholly, not for herself but for him. She was breaking him when she had just saved him from himself. But how could she save him from this?

She returned to the floor; she didn't exactly grasp the reason for it until there was a bright light all around her, and she felt immediate relief and gained back her consciousness after it.

He lifted her again and hugged her tightly against his chest, burying his face in her hair, holding her close for dear life. She heard his heartbeat, strong and accelerated. She no longer felt cold.

She opened her eyes.

"Colonel, I'm so sorry."

He fixed his eyes on hers. "No, don't speak. Just rest now."

She looked at him tiredly but her eyes shone with happiness; she had survived thanks to their deep connection. "You understood my signal. I'm not sure how… but I'm glad."

He smiled tenderly and she saw everything he wanted to say to her but couldn't. "We've been together long enough." She was as good at reading him as he was at reading her. He knew she could see it, the love; the unwavering, undying, immeasurable love he felt for her. "And besides, I know that glare... It means use human transmutation, and I'll shoot you."

She smiled and closed her eyes. She memorized this moment. Even soaked in her own blood she felt warm in his arms.

The war wasn't over, but they had won this battle.

She was alive. She was with him. She was safe.